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T I O N. 


PART I. 

HISTORY OF EDUCATION, 

ANCIENT AND MODERN. 

PART IL 

A PLAN OF CULTURE AND INSTRUCTION, 


BASED ON CHRISTIAN PRINCIPLES, AND DESIGNED TO AID IN 
THE RIGHT EDUCATION OP YOUTH, PHYSICALLY, 
INTELLECTUALLY, AND MORALLY. 

A sound mind in a healthy body/^ 


BY H. L SMITH, A.M., 

rBOFESSOR OF MODERN LANGUAGES IN PENNSYLVANIA COLLEGE, AND 
PROFESSOR OF GERMAN LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE IN THE 
THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY AT GETTYSBURG, PENN. 


NEW-YOR K: 

HARPER & BROTHERS, 82 C L IF F-S T R E E T. 


1 84 5 . 
>/ 







Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1812, by 
H*rper & Brothers, 

]n the Clerk’s Ollice at the J^‘>”thern District of New-York. 


PREFACE. 


The writer of the following work can, he believes, 
truly say, that he has been induced by no idle cacoe- 
thes scribendi to prepare it for the public. The 
subject is one of the very highest interest in itself, 
and of special interest in our day and country; and 
80 regarding it, the writer has long considered such 
a work as he has here aimed to produce, a desider¬ 
atum in the English language; for while the Ger¬ 
mans possess voluminous works of the greatest merit 
\ from such authors as Jean Paul Friedr. Richter, 
Niemeyer, Schwarz, and others, no work, cover¬ 
ing the whole ground of education, has, within our 
knowledge, appeared in the English language. To 
translate, entire, one of the extensive works of the 
Germans on pedagogics, would probably, from vari¬ 
ous reasons, have proved a thankless undertaking; 
and the shorter, but profound and sparkling work of 
Richter is scarcely susceptible of an English dress. 
In order, therefore, to make an attempt to supply a 
desideratum in our literature, the present writer ven¬ 
tures to offer to the public, in the second part of this 
volume, a work, in which it has been his object to 
present a complete system of pedagogics, its princi- 



IV 


PREFACE. 


pies, and its methods, in a compass as narrow as 
might be consistent with clearness and due copious¬ 
ness of detail. To a candid and indulgent public it 
is left to decide to what extent his object has been 
attained. 

lie ventures to flatter himself that the history of 
education, which constitutes the first part of this 
book, will be acceptable to the friends of education 
and the public in general, as he is not aware that 
any similar attempt is extant in the English language. 

The writer makes no pretensions to originality as 
regards the general plan and matter of his w^ork. 
Its history is briefly the following: In the days of 
his academic study he heard a few lectures on ped¬ 
agogics and the science of method from one of his 
German professors. Of these lectures notes were 
taken at the time, and these notes constitute the 
groundwork of the present attempt, furnishing both 
the plan and a great part of the matter here present¬ 
ed. They have been very considerably expanded, 
receiving various modifications and numerous addi¬ 
tions, to adapt the work to the wants and peculiar 
circumstances of the American public, and to the 
character of American institutions. The extracts, in¬ 
serted from the large and excellent work of Schw’arz 
(Erziehungslehre, in drei Banden), will be found ac¬ 
knowledged wherever they occur. These also have 
been modified in various ways, in order to accom¬ 
modate them to the peculiarities of our country. 


PREFACE. 


V 


The history has been taken substantially from 
the work of Schwarz, which {i. c., the historical part 
alone) consists of 1058 closely-printed large octavo 
pages. This statement will also show the extent to 
which the present writer has been obliged to con¬ 
dense and abridge. While, therefore, he has, in the 
main, translated from the above-named author, he 
has been under the necessity of taking great liberties 
with his work, in order to reduce it to such dimen¬ 
sions as seemed suitable to the present design. 
Hence, as the work assumed an entirely different 
character, it became necessary to give it, in various 
respects, a different form; to introduce, occasionally, 
original observations in bringing forward some new 
personage or subject, or in passing from one period 
to another. Some few additions have also been 
made, especially at the close. These statements 
are made merely in order to show that, although the 
train of narrative, as given by Schwarz, has been 
closely followed, he is not responsible for the form 
in which this abridgment of his history of educa¬ 
tion appears before the American public. 

The reader will find the substantive pedagogics 
(frequently, and, as we think, incorrectly written 
pedagogy by English writers) and the adjective ped- 
agogic employed in the work, because they are the 
only words that adequately convey the idea which it 
was here intended to express, viz., the science of 
education, in its whole compass. In this sense the 
A2 


VI 


PREFACE. 


Germans have long used the words “paedagogik” 
and “ paedagogisch,” and it is time that the terms 
were domesticated among us also. 

If the writer knows himself at all, his sole object 
is to do good; and his prayer to God is, that this 
humble attempt may, in some measure at least, sub¬ 
serve the interests of his country, the welfare of the 
rising generation, and the praise of his Maker’s 
name. 

Gettysburg, October, 1842 . 


CONTENTS. 


PART I. 

HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 

INTRODUCTORY REMARKS .Page 13 


I. THE OLD WORLD. 


SECTION I. 

EASTERN ASIA. 

Comprehending, I. The Hindus 

II. The Chinese and Japanese 


15 

18 


SECTION II. 

CENTRAL ASIA. 

Comprehending the Babylonians, Chaldeans, Medes. and Per¬ 
sians .23 


SECTION III. 

WESTERN ASIA. 

Comprehending the Phoenicians and Carthaginians, the Lydi¬ 
ans, the Phrygians, and the Scythians .... 32 

SECTION IV. 

AFRICA. 

I. Ethiopians (Meroe). 32 

II. Egyptians '..33 

SECTION V. 

The Israelites or Hebrews.36 

SECTION VI. 

THE CLASSIC NATIONS : OR, THE GREEKS AND ROMANS. 

I. The Greeks.41 

1. Homer. Achaians and Hellenes . . . .42 

2. Lycurgus and the Spartans.44 

3. Pythagoras. Pythagoraeans , 47 






Vm CONTENTS. 

4. Solon. The lonians. Athens .... Page 55 

5. Socrates.60 

6. Plato.67 

7. Aristotle.75 

II. The Romans.82 

SECTION VII. 

Arabian Culture.99 


II. T^IE CHRISTIAN WORLD . 103 

• • SECTION I. 

HIGHER INSTITUTIONS OF EDUCATION. 

1. School of the Catechists at Alexandria .... 108 

2. Schools of the Emperors; and the Universities . . 109 

SECTION II. 

CHRISTIAN EDUCATION AMONG THE NATIONS OF WESTERN 
EUROPE. 

CHAPTER I. 

Domestic Life, and Religious Instruction of the Church . 112 
CHAPTER II. 

Pedagogic Literature and Method. Capella . . . .114 

Boethius. Aurelius Cassiodorius. Bede. Rhabanus Maurus 115 

Sacred Music. Gregory the Great.116 

University of Paris. Theology. Vincentius de Beauvais .117 

SECTION III. 

Education strives to become Free, and to liberate the Human 
Mind from the Mediaeval Thraldom. The Gospel emanci¬ 
pated from Papal Bondage. From 1350-1520 . . . 118 

Revival of Classical Learning. Petrarch . . . .119 

Niccolo Niccoh. Netherlands. Germany. ReuchUn. John 

Colet. Luis Vives.120 

The Reformation. Its influence on Education . . .121 

Jesuits.122 

General Survey. ib. 

SECTION IV. 

Methodic Pedagogists and their Labours . . . .124 

Lord Bacon.126 

Wolfgang Ratich.127 

Christopher Helwig. Amos Comenius.128 

Montaigne. John Locke ....... 130 

Summary of Locke’s Pedagogic Views.131 














CONTENTS. 


IX 


SECTION V. 

Modern Development of the Idea of Education . Page 133 

Perrault and Boileau in France.134 

Religious Spirit in the Work of Education. P. J. Spener . 135 

Fenelon. Augustus Hermann Franke.136 

Count Zinzendorf. Moravian Schools.138 

SECTION VL 

The New Pedagogics.139 

1. The Pedagogics of Piety: Aug. H. Franke . . .143 

2. The Pedagogics of the Humanists : Cellarius. Gesner. 

Heyne.146 

Emesti. Fr. A. Wolf.147 

3. The Pedagogics of the Philanthropists .... ib. 

A. Jean Jacques Rousseau.149 

B. John Bernhard Basedow.151 

C. Christopher G. Salzmann . . . . • . . 153 

M. de Rochow.155 

D. Johann Heinrich Pestalozzi. ib. 

P. E. de Fellenberg.159 

J. G. Fichte.160 

Conclusion.162 


PART II. 

A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE AND 
INSTRUCTION. 

. Outline of the Work.173 

General Principles.175 

DIVISION I. 

INTELLECTUAL AND PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 

SECTION I. 

CULTURE OF THE UNDERSTANDING AND THE SENSIBILITIES. 
CHAPTER I. 

tfan, in liis Individual Capacity, educated in the Graces of 
the Mind. a. Physical Education.178 

b. Bodily Exercise. Gymnastics . . . . • 196 

c. Education for the true Enjoyment of Life . . .199 

CHAPTER H. 

Intellectual Culture, aiming at the Development of the Under¬ 
standing for the Perception of Truth ..... 200 
Cultivation of the Senses: 

J. The Sense of Sight.201 














X 


CONTENTS. 


2. The Sense of Hearing.Page 205 

3. The Sense of Smell.209 

4. The Sense of Taste.210 

5. The Sense of Touch.211 

I.anguage.214 

Cultivation of the Memory. ib. 

Cultivation of the Imagination.217 

Cultivation of Attention.224 

Cultivation of the Understanding.226 


CHAPTER III. 

ESTHETIC CULTURE. 

Cultivation of the Feelings for the Perception and Enjoyment 
of the Beautiful.233 


CHAPTER IV. 

Practical Education, designed to develop the Character in 
general for the Public and Practical Alfairs of Life. 

1. Practical Education in general, or Education in Busi¬ 


ness Habits and in the Proprieties of Life . . . 240 

2. Practical Education for some particular Calling . . 242 

A. Popular Instruction, or Education for the Callings of 

Common Life.245 

B. The College, or Instruction preparatory to the Learned 

Professions.249 

Importance and Advantages of Classical Studies . . 252 

Rules for conducting them.253 

Geography and History.255 

Modern Languages . .257 

Esthetic Exercises: Drawing and Music . . . ib. 

Mathematics.258 

Plan for diminishing the Difficulties and Unpopularity 

of Mathematics . . 259 

Logic.263 

Two general Remarks on Collegiate Didactics . . ib. 


SECTION II. 

MAN EDUCATED FOR SOCIAL LIFE, OR IN THE SOCIAL AFFEC¬ 
TIONS. 

CHAPTER I. 

Education in the Sentiments of Private Friendship, Love, and 
Benevolence in general.265 

CHAPTER H. 

Education aiming at the right Development of the SerAiments 
of Love in its narrowest Sense, as the Love of Family and 

Kindred.269 

Different Mental Culture required by the Young of different 

Sexes : Errors.273 

More extended Discussion of the same Subject from Schwarz 275 















CONTENTS 


XI 


CHAPTER III, 

Education for the Community or for Public Life, whether 

of the Church or of the State. Patriotism . . Page 289 

DIVISION II. 

MORAL EDUCATION. 

CHAPTER I. 

The Moral Education of Man, considered as an Individual. 

Cultivation of the Sense of Honour.203 

A. Abnormal Developments, their Origin and Prevention: 

Excessive Screaming ....... 295 

Subduing of the Temper, or Will.297 

Obstinacy and Self-will.305 

Indolence.- . . . .311 

Laziness.312 

Instabihty.313 

Gloominess and Excessive Levity.3 I f 

Selfishness. ib. 

Sensuality.310 

B. Treatment of Corrupted Youth.317 

CHAPTER II. 

Moral Education of IMan, considered as a Member of Society. 

Statement of the subject.323 

A. Negative or Preventive Education.327 

B. Positive Education. . 328 


Religious Education 


CHAPTER III. 


. 334 











PART I. 

HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 

No subject can be more important to enlightened 
man than the education of his race for time and for 
eternity—none more attractive and interesting than 
its history from the earliest ages, and its gradual de¬ 
velopment down to the present time. 

Some sort of education must have existed among 
men at all times and in all places. It would not be 
difficult for one intimately acquainted with human na¬ 
ture, and conversant with the hints given in the Scrip¬ 
tures with regard to the character of human life and 
the condition of society in the antediluvian world, to 
advance plausible conjectures respecting the state and 
methods of education during that remote period. But, 
as such conjectures are not likely ever to be authenti¬ 
cated by the publication of hitherto undiscovered mon¬ 
uments of antediluvian literature, we shall not, in this, 
follow the example of others, but abstain from them 
altogether. Yet there cannot be a doubt, that in the 
earliest ages of the world the religious instruction and 
education of their children was a prominent ob’^ct 
with parents. That such education had not entirely 
ceased, though nearly so, before the Deluge, is attested 
by the piety of Noah and his family. It were need¬ 
less here to argue the necessity and importance of re¬ 
ligious education, from the degeneracy and corruption 
which, in consequence of its total neglect and aban¬ 
donment by almost the whole human family, caused 
the earth to be swept of nearly all its inhabitants. 

It is equally obvious that antediluvian education 
must have occupied itself mainly with the necessary 
pursuits, the practical purposes and duties of life. It 



14 


INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 


had regard, doubtless, to the immediate and more im¬ 
perative wants of common life; and necessity, as it 
arose, dictated its rules and its methods. 

The same remark is in a great degree applicable 
to all popular education since the Flood, of which we 
liave any knowledge, down to the invention of the art 
of printing. The mysteries of Egypt and her colonies, 
the philosophic schools of Greece and Italy, were not 
for the people. The facilities of an intellectual educa¬ 
tion belonged to a privileged few. 

The invention of Faust threw wide open the ave¬ 
nues of learning, and bid come, and take, and enjoy, all 
that would and had leisure. Yet, though the vast 
multiplication and wide diffusion of books, through the 
intervention of printing, tended to the greater equali¬ 
zation of education and the extension of its benefits, 
little attention was paid to principles, and to a judi¬ 
cious and wise development of suitable and effectual 
methods. The universities of Europe were, and of 
necessity are, jealous mothers of the learned profes¬ 
sions. In respect of popular education, therefore, 
things remained very much at loose ends until, in the 
eighteenth century, the learned began to set up theo¬ 
ries on this important subject, and to propose and ad¬ 
vocate systems ; enterprising and benevolent men es¬ 
tablished schools with specific, large, liberal, and wor¬ 
thy objects in view; and at length governments began 
to interest themselves, and to provide for the intellect¬ 
ual and moral training of their people. Since then a 
new day has arisen upon schools ; education has be¬ 
come a science ; its methods have been reduced to a 
system, which the progress of inf elligence and wisdom 
continues to improve. The interest thus excited has 
led men of profound learning to examine with minute 
research the monuments of classical lore, with a view 
to read and point out the history of education in ages 
long since past, and to follow its thread down to our 
day. Of the more or less successful results of these 
efforts we shall here, in the first place, present a com¬ 
pendious view. 


THE OLD WORLD. 


SECTION 1. 

EASTERN ASIA, 

COMPREHENDING INDIA, CHINA, AND JAPAN. 

I. HINDUS. 

It cannot be doubted that the inhabitants of ancient 
India were among the first civilized nations of the 
earth. The limits which we have prescribed to our¬ 
selves will not permit us to present the proofs of this 
unquestionable statement. They are found in the di¬ 
visions of society, in the religious and civil institutions 
and usages which still exist among the Hindus, as 
they have come down from time immemorial; in the 
philosophical, or philosophico-theological systems of 
the Brahmins, the Buddhists, and the Dshainists, and, 
more than all these, in the Sanscrit monuments of 
Indian literature, v/hich, though but recently made 
known to Europe, belong to hoar antiquity; the Shas- 
tres, the institutes of Menu (collected, probably, 1280 
A.C.), the epic poems Ramajana and Mahabharata, 
and many other works which it would be superfluous 
to mention. We must suppose the reader to be ac¬ 
quainted with the character of East Indian society, 
and in some measure, at least, with the recent discov¬ 
eries of Sir William Jones and others, or refer him 
on this subject to sources whence information may 
be obtained, while we proceed to give a brief view of 
what is known respecting the education of this re¬ 
markable people. 

It must be borne in mind that the Indians have al¬ 
ways been divided into four distinct tribes or castes : 
the Brahmins, or priests; the Ketri, or military class; 



16 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


the Vaisaya, or labourers, comprising husbandmen and 
meclianics; and the Pariahs, “ the outcasts of all the 
rest,” employed only in the lowest and meanest offi¬ 
ces, and scarcely treated as men. The distinct priv¬ 
ileges, and the insurmountable barriers, presented by 
fixed social arrangements, which separated each of 
the higher castes from that next below, and these 
three from the despised and abhorred Pariahs, preclu¬ 
ded everything like a general system of education for 
the whole people; and, indeed, little more can be 
done than to infer the nature of their education from 
the degree of culture which the character and ancient 
literature of this nation exhibit. 

The Sanscrit poems represent the matrimonial re¬ 
lation as one most intimate and sacred; so much so, 
that we can regard the right of polygamy, granted 
to the three higher classes, only with surprise. The 
Brahmins were required to marry; and that the pro¬ 
creation of children was regarded as the important 
end, appears from the law of Menu, which allowed the 
husband to repudiate a barren wife in the eighth year 
of wedlock. In their religious system the father was 
the representative of permanent existence. He not 
only saw himself renewed in his son, but might im¬ 
prove or perfect himself in him. If he had sinned, 
the devotional exercises and good works of his son 
could release him from punishment. If, then, the 
character, the piety of the son could benefit the father, 
even in the next world, what greater concern could 
the latter have had than that his sons should become 
as good and virtuous as possible 1 If the daughters 
partook less of this interest, passages in the Sacontala 
show that they also were embraced by it. These 
views are sufficient to show that religious and moral 
education must have employed the careful attention 
of parents. 

It is probable that the education of the Hindus was 
almost entirely limited to the family training. We 
say “ almost entirely,” because the popular schools 
of the modern Hindus are perhaps to be regarded as 
a remnant of ancient institutions. In these schools. 


THE HINDUS. 17 

which are often described in our common schoolbooks, 
reading, writing, and some arithmetic are taught. 

A custom still prevails in India which has probably 
come down from remote antiquity. An old man, oc¬ 
cupying an elevated seat in some public place, assem¬ 
bles the children of the village around him, to instruct 
them in the principles of a virtuous life. 

The present schools of the Brahmins, or the learned 
caste, bear evident marks of great age. The students 
are divided into exoteric and esoteric. To the privi¬ 
leges of the former even those are admitted who do 
not aspire to Brahminical consecration. It has been 
stated that no Hindu was excluded: this is improb¬ 
able ; but it may be regarded as pretty certain that 
all the three higher classes were admitted to exoteric 
privileges. The studies of this class were language 
and sciences, poetry, the doctrines of the popular 
religion, philosophy, history, astronomy, jurispru¬ 
dence, and medicine ; doubtful are the higher mythol¬ 
ogy and mathematics. 

The esoteric instruction was confined to native 
Brahmins after they had received the second conse¬ 
cration of their order, and this instruction constituted 
their third and final consecration as priests and sages. 
Among the esoteric students the highest rank is held 
by those who devote themselves to the exposition of 
the religious books, i. e., by the theologians. From 
these same books, which to the Hindus are the source 
of all the sciences, others study jurisprudence, or med¬ 
icine, &c. This mode of procedure appears to be as 
old as the nation. They still make use of the ancient 
text-books, which, comprehending even the Sanscrit 
lexicons, are written in verse. Nor is the mode of 
communicating instruction less ancient in its charac¬ 
ter. During five years the pupil can be only a hearer, • 
without having permission to speak. He listens mere¬ 
ly to the conversations of two teachers. In the ex¬ 
ercises of divine worship he is also bound to silence, 
being allowed only the language of gesture. During 
this period he is probably also required to engage in 
ascetic exercises. At the end of these five years he 
B2 


18 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


is permitted to communicate his thoughts and doubts 
to the two conversing teachers, and therefore to take 
an active part in the disputation. 

The time of study continues from twelve to twenty 
years. During this time the pupil dwells in the house 
of a teacher (Guru), to whom he must be entirely de¬ 
voted, like a son to his father. The teachers, whose 
general designation is Pundit, are exclusively Brah¬ 
mins. Each one receives from ten to fifteen pupils, 
for a period of ten or twelve years, into his house. 
They possess large revenues, but their indolence is 
much complained of. Those living in a state of cel¬ 
ibacy are said to enjoy the largest incomes. Their 
principal institution is at Benares, or, rather, in the 
suburbs Kasi: instruction is there given in the gar¬ 
dens or in the temples. There are elsewhere two 
other high schools of this description. 

No Brahmin is permitted to establish a household 
of his own, and to marry, before he has completed his 
studies. All this, even the tediousness of the course 
of instruction, serves apparently to fix their mode o. 
thinking, their doctrines, and their art of disputation, 
and thus to establish the people in their usages, and 
their devotion to the Brahminical caste. For to this 
highest caste alone belongs the privilege of expound¬ 
ing the religious books or Vedas ; the second and 
third are allowed only to read them, and to the fourth, 
as the unclean, even this is denied. 

II. THE CHINESE AND JAPANESE. 

We deem it unnecessary to consider these two na¬ 
tions separately, because in every point of view they 
are of kindred character, and have similar institutions ; 
and because, while we know little of the Chinese, we 
know still less of the Japanese. 

With the civilization of the Chinese, their literature 
and arts, their political and civil institutions, we are 
pretty well acquainted. A great variety of books, 
giving information respecting the character and con¬ 
dition of this people, as far as it can be obtained under 
existing circumstances, are before the public. On 


THE CHINESE AND JAPANESE. 19 

these points, therefore, we shall not dwell, but proceed 
to give an account of their education. 

Respecting the manner in which children were in 
ancient times educated among this people, we can 
only form conclusions from what has become known 
to us concerning the present state of things in this 
particular. 

In the Melanges Asiat., par Abel Ramusat, Paris, 
1825-26, ii., p. 317, an interesting extract is given 
from the commentary of Young-tching, in which a 
Chinese emperor expatiates with much depth of feel¬ 
ing on the love of parents to their child. The emper¬ 
ors and their vicegerents in the cities are the high¬ 
est moral instructers of the people ; and this, and sim¬ 
ilar passages, authorize the belief that parental affec¬ 
tion is warm, and religiously cherished among the 
Chinese. That medical science is employed in the 
proper physical treatment of children, may be con¬ 
jectured from the fact that they possess many works 
on medicine, in which, among other things, there 
specific rules with reference to this point. 

There are a great many elementary schools through 
out the Chinese empire, for which, however, the gov¬ 
ernment is said to make no direct provision. The 
children are sent to school in their fifth year, and very 
closely confined to their lessons, which employ chief^ 
ly the memory, and communicate little beyond what 
was conned over, a thousand years ago, by their pred¬ 
ecessors. From early times the Chinese have prac¬ 
tised printing from stereotype blocks of wood, whence 
instruction in China differs from that of all other na¬ 
tions of antiquity in this, that the pupils learn mostly 
from books. Besides reading thus taught, they are 
instructed in writing, and the Chinese attach much 
importance to calligraphy. It is not certain whether 
arithmetic is taught in these schools; but, besides the 
general information which the pupils must derive from 
their exercises in reading, they are specially instruct¬ 
ed in divers matters connected with practical life. 
They recite twice a day. 

It appears that only the boys enjoy the privilege of 


20 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


attending the schools; and among this people, also, 
the female sex is in a degraded state. Yet the custom 
prevails of employing private tutors in families, for 
which office the more wealthy select a man of learn¬ 
ing who has obtained the degree of doctor. 

Besides these elementary schools, there are com¬ 
mon schools of a higher character for the people, and 
high schools for the nobility and gentry. In the for¬ 
mer the course of instruction comprises four classes, 
to each of which a particular book is assigned. The 
first is the Pe-kia-sing, a book of names, in which the 
members of a hundred families are mentioned by 
name; and these names the children are required to 
commit to memory. The second is the Tsa-tse, con¬ 
taining a collection of things necessary to be known 
in common life. This is succeeded by the Tsien-tse- 
ouen, a combination of a thousand letters. The 
fourth, the San-tse-king, contains verses of three syl¬ 
lables, in which are taught the first principles of mor¬ 
als, and the rudiments of history. We have not been 
able to ascertain whether this closes the course of the 
common schools, and leaves the pupil to commence 
the higher course with the study of the Sse-chou, i. e., 
the four classic books, nor have we any information 
respecting the relation in which the elementary schools 
of the Chinese stand to their higher seminaries of 
learning. 

These higher seminaries, which are designed only 
for the sons of the nobility, are under the immediate 
direction of the state; and a college, enjoying great 
reputation, has been established at Pekin by the gov¬ 
ernment. Persons desiring to attend these schools, 
who probably are always grown-up young men, arc 
sent to the governor of a city of the third magnitude, 
whose business it is to examine the applicants, and 
to confer on those who pass a creditable examination 
the title of Hien-ming. The applicant, who has ob¬ 
tained this distinction, now calls on the governor of 
a city of the first magnitude, by whom he is examin¬ 
ed a second time. The competitors are here requi¬ 
red to prepare their exercises in a building devoted to 


THE CHINESE AND JAPANESE. 


21 


tliis purpose, and those who are selected for advance¬ 
ment are called Fouming. Into the highest seminary 
of learning, the above-mentioned college at Pekin, 
every Mandarin of superior rank enjoys the privilege 
of sending one of his sons, who, after pursuing his 
studies for three years, receives some inferior office 
with a salary. 

Among the learned there are different grades, 
which may be compared to our academic honours. 
A Mandarin of Pekin is appointed to hold, annually, 
an academic visitation in all the larger cities, in or¬ 
der to examine those who aspire to the inferior hon¬ 
ours (or the first degree in the arts), of whom it is al¬ 
ways necessary that there should be four hundred. 
Each competitor is required to pass through ten trial- 
exercises. The Mandarin selects fifteen of the most 
deserving, and bestows on them the title of Lirou- 
tsay. This title exempts them from chastisement 
with the bamboo, and marks of honourable distinction 
are conferred upon them. The title is of considerable 
value in the state ; whence the title of Kien-song, 
which is about equivalent to the other, and which the 
chamber of finance disposes of for about seven hun¬ 
dred and fifty dollars, is purchased by many, who 
stand in awe of the above-mentioned ten contests for 
promotion. 

Persons who have obtained one of these two in¬ 
ferior academic honours, are at liberty to present 
themselves among the competitors for a higher de¬ 
gree, at the intellectual contest held every three 
years at Pekin. This second degree is also obtained 
only by passing successfully through appropriate ex¬ 
ercises of trial. The successful candidate has the 
right to apply, in the following year, at the capital, 
for examination in view of the highest academic hon¬ 
ours ; and if he sustains it with credit, he receives 
the title of Tsin-tse, or doctor, which is highly esteem¬ 
ed in China. The relatives and friends assemble 
around him with joyful festivities, and bring him 
presents : he enjoys great consideration everywhere ; 
can expect to be appointed to the most important 


22 HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 

offices, and may receive from the emperor a rank 
still higher—that of Han-lin. 

All this proves, indeed, that the Chinese hold in¬ 
tellectual culture in great esteem, and that the learn¬ 
ed enjoy a sort of rank, and are appointed to the 
highest offices, so that they not unfrequently acquire 
great wealth. Yet external circumstances are too 
much regarded, and the natural consequence of this 
is, that titles are purchased in order thus to obtain 
offices. Riches, and the rank of birth, secure ex¬ 
emption from onerous exertion; and the Mandarins 
of the first and second rank have even the right to 
propose their sons, without titles or examination, for 
offices, so they be not the highest. 

Why the Chinese, after reaching so respectable a 
degree of eivilization, should nevertheless have so 
long been stationary, is an interesting question, which 
the philosopher is still at a loss to answer satisfac¬ 
torily. 

Respecting the education of the Japanese, who in 
national character and civilization so much resemble 
the Chinese, veiy little is known. That their litera¬ 
ture is quite respectable, that they print books, and 
are fond of reading, is certain. The history of their 
country, and other sciences, are much studied. 

Their education is probably Jiot inferior to that of 
the Chinese, and there are said to be many schools in 
Japan. At the high school or academy, established 
at Miako, the capital, the faculty cultivate the scien¬ 
ces and instruct the students in them. The inacces¬ 
sible seclusion of this nation leaves us utterly igno¬ 
rant of the development of its civilization, and its an¬ 
cient methods of education. 

We possess some interesting information respect¬ 
ing the state of culture enjoyed by the nations living 
contiguous to the Hindus and Chinese : the Siamese, 
the Burmese, the Malays, and, in the north, the in¬ 
habitants of Thibet and Mongolia; but, as we know 
nothing of their education, we must pass them by. 


THE BABYLONIANS. 


23 


SECTION II. 

CENTRAL ASIA, 

COMPREHENDING THE BABYLONIANS, CHALDEANS, MEDB8, 
AND PERSIANS. 

I. BABYLONIANS. 

This people are remarkable as the first after the 
flood of whose fixed civil organization and establish¬ 
ed government we have any knowledge. Some cen¬ 
turies after Nimrod, their prosperous empire fell into 
the hands of the Assyrians, who greatly advanced its 
prosperity. However fabulous the accounts which 
we have concerning Semiramis, there can be no doubt 
as to the early magnificence of Babylon, the splen¬ 
dour of its court, the elegance and grandeur of its ar 
chitecture, and the luxury that was rife within its 
walls. About 600 A.C., Nebuchadnezzar, at the head 
of his Chaldeans, a northern and warlike tribe, con¬ 
quered the kingdom; but this united monarchy was 
soon after taken possession of by the Medes, who, 
like the Chaldeans, were merged in the native popu¬ 
lation. At this time, however, the Babylonian, the 
Median, the Lydian, and the Persian monarchies had 
still a distinct existence ; but about 550 A.C. the 
Persian monarchy had already incorporated within 
itself all the others. 

These nations appear to have been intimately re¬ 
lated in culture and religion, and in the use of one 
language, the Semitic, which was, however, diversi¬ 
fied by several different dialects. The peculiar cul¬ 
ture of these nations proceeded from the Medes, from 
whom it extended to the Chaldaeo-Babylonians, who 
had themselves attained a state of high civilization. 
With them also originated the division of the people 
into the four classes of the Magi, or priests and sages, 
the warriors, the husbandmen, and the mechanics. 

Babylon was emphatically the abode of idolatry and 
its abominations. The religious system of this peo- 


24 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


pie is SO well known, that an account of it here is un¬ 
necessary. Its priests, as has been said, were the 
Magi, of whom there was a well-organized institution 
at Babylon, under the direction of their superior, the 
Destur Mobed, or Grand Magus. In number about 
seventy, they were divided into classes, of which each 
had its superior. They studied nature and astronomy, 
mathematics and history. The Babylonians or Chal¬ 
deans were regarded as the inventors of astronomy 
and astrology. 

The state of culture attained by these nations au¬ 
thorizes the belief that the education of their youth, 
however little certain knowledge we have of it, was 
in some measure provided for. The doctrines of 
Zerdusht do not, indeed, recognise monogamy, but 
they insist on domestic virtue and order, condemn 
unchaste and unnatural vices, and represent a numer¬ 
ous family as a good greatly to be desired. Yet this 
people sacrificed their male children to idols, and the 
innocence of their daughters in the pyramid of Belus. 
Children were sacrificed in the temple of Astaroth at 
Hierapolis. Sometimes their parents tied them into 
a sack, and, exclaiming that they were not human be¬ 
ings, but beasts, hurled them from the rock on which 
the temple stood. Practices like these augur very 
unfavourably respecting the state of education among 
them. 

II. THE PERSIANS. 

In the ancient kingdom of the Medes we find, un¬ 
der the name of Persians, a distinct race, inhabiting 
Mount Taurus to the south of the Caspian Sea. They 
were divided into twelve tribes, had their own kings, 
and were far from being uncivilized. Although the 
civilization, and hence the system of the Magi, doubt¬ 
less infiuenced them at an early period, they did not, 
therefore, renounce their own peculiar manners. As 
we do not become acquainted with them until we find 
them established in Babylon, it is impossible to decide 
what must be regarded as original in their culture, 
and what as adopted. But in the account which He- 


THE PERSIANS. 


2 ^ 


rodotus gives of their religion and manners, we find 
various indications of original development. They 
were a powerful and warlike race of mountaineers, 
and conquered Babylon under Cyrus, who there es¬ 
tablished the Persian throne. From this time for¬ 
ward the Persians are found at Babylon in connexion 
with the Magi, whose religion and authority were 
recognised by Cyrus. But with the religion, they 
adopted the voluptuousness and luxury of the Baby¬ 
lonians : having soon sunk into effeminacy and cor¬ 
ruption, their expeditions to Greece resulted only in 
disaster and disgrace, and the vast Persian monarchy 
itself became, 333 A.C., the easy prey of Alexander 
the Great. 

For valuable information respecting the character 
and civilization of the ancient Persians, we refer the 
reader to Herodotus. We hasten to give an account 
of their education, concerning which we are better 
informed than that of any other nation of antiquity. 
On this subject the principal authority is Xenophon. 
While the learned have nearly ceased to doubt that 
this eloquent writer wrought out, in his thoroughly 
Grecian mind, an ideal of what education ought to 
be, instead of presenting a mere matter-of-fact state¬ 
ment of what he witnessed among the Persians about 
two generations after Herodotus, his account is yet 
unquestionably founded in truth; and, treating of a 
period about 400 A.C., presents us with one of the 
most valuable contributions to the history of educa¬ 
tion. And while we admit that the master-pencil of 
Xenophon may have drawn a picture more beautiful 
in many respects, and more perfect, than the reality, 
the ingenuous reader can nevertheless scarcely en¬ 
tertain a doubt of the general truthfulness and accu¬ 
racy of the account which he gives, with so much 
minuteness of detail and beautiful simplicity, in the 
second and third chapters of his Cyropaedia. Leav¬ 
ing the scholar to turn to the simple and elegant lan¬ 
guage of the original, we here give, for the benefit of 
the general reader, a version, as literal as possible,, 
of the second chapter. 


C 


26 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


“ The father of Cyrus is said to have been Cam- 
byses, the king of the Persians, who was descended 
from the family of the Persidae, and these derive 
their name from Perseus. Mandane, the daughter of 
Astyages, king of the Medes, is universally named as 
his mother. 

“ The stories and songs of the barbarians still cele¬ 
brate Cyrus as a man of the most beautiful figure, and 
the most humane soul; as most eager for knowledge, 
and of the strictest integrity; as submitting to every 
species of hardship, and encountering all manner of 
dangers, for the sake of fame. As such he is descri¬ 
bed both in respect of the nature of his soul and of 
his personal appearance: as regards his education, 
he was brought up in the laws of the Persians. But 
these laws proceed very differently from the laws of 
most states : they set out with provision for the com¬ 
mon good. Most states allow every citizen to edu¬ 
cate his sons as he pleases, and then suffer the more 
advanced youth to shape their conduct according to 
their inclinations ; and after that, they command them 
not to steal, not to rob, not forcibly to enter a house, 
to beat no man unjustly, not to commit adultery, not 
to disobey the magistrates, and other like things. If 
any man then offend, they visit him with punishment. 
The Persian laws, on the other hand, anticipate, and 
take care that, from the very outset, the citizens be 
not such as to incline to any evil or disgraceful deed. 
And they make such provision in the following man¬ 
ner : They have a public place which they call the 
iAewdfpa dyopd,* where the royal dwellings and other 
state-buildings stand. From this place merchandise, 
and the market-people with their clamour and rude 
bearing, are excluded, and sent elsewhere, in order that 
their noisy proceedings may not interrupt the good 
order and conduct of the well-educated. 

“ This forum, thus situated at the state buildings, has 
four divisions; one for boys, one for young men 

* We do not translate this word, because the literal version, “ free place,’* 
does not give its full meaning; it signifies a place of meeting,, secor^ 
against the interruptions of common public business. 


THE PERSIANS. 


27 


6oc)y one for men of mature age (Te?.eioc), and another 
for those who have passed the age of military service. 
The laws now require that each class repair to its ap¬ 
propriate place—the boys at daybreak, as also the men 
of maturp age ; but the aged, whenever each one finds 
it convenient, except on certain days, when they are 
required to be present. The young men sleep round 
about the governmental buildings with their training- 
arms ; those who are married are excepted, and are 
not expected to attend except when they receive spe¬ 
cial orders; but they are not favourably looked upon 
if they absent themselves frequently. Each of these 
divisions has twelve rulers (or presidents), for the 
Persians also are divided into twelve tribes. And to 
preside over the boys, such of the old are select¬ 
ed of whom there is reason to expect that they will 
be most successful in training them. Over the young 
men, such of the men of mature age are placed as are 
likely to turn out the best young men. With au¬ 
thority over the men of mature age, those are invest¬ 
ed, of whom it is believed that they approve them¬ 
selves as eminently prepared to execute whatever is 
commanded, and to obey the mandates of the highest 
authority. The old, also, have their rulers selected 
from among those who give evidence that they them¬ 
selves perform their duties. W'e shall now set forth ' 
what things it is prescribed to each age to perform, 
that it may become the more obvious in what manner 
provision is made that the citizens may be as good as 
possible. The boys attend the schools where they 
are employed in learning justice, and they declare 
that they go for this purpose, just as with us they go 
to school, in order to receive elementary instruction. 
Their rulers spend the greater part of the day in judg¬ 
ing them ; for it happens among the boys, as well as 
the men, that charges are mutually brought for theft, 
and robbery, and violence, and fraud, and slander, and 
other things which naturally occur. Upon those whom 
lliey ascertain to have been guilty in any such point, 
they inflict punishment. They punish those, also, 
who are found to have alleged unjust accusations. 


28 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


But justice is administered also with respect to a 
crime, on account of which men indeed exceedingly 
hate each other, but are not apt to go to laAv, namely, 
ingratitude. And when it is found that any one, who 
was able to render thanks, neglected to do so, he is 
very severely punished ; for they are of opinion that 
the ungrateful care nothing at all about the gods, nor 
their parents, their country, or their friends. It is in¬ 
deed found that impudence is the companion of in¬ 
gratitude ; and impudence, it appears to me, is the 
greatest promoter of everything shameful. They 
also teach the boys self-government (temperance); 
and the acquisition of temperate habits is greatly pro¬ 
moted by their seeing the old passing all their days 
in the most discreet manner. They teach them also 
to obey the magistrates ; and what greatly contrib¬ 
utes to the attainment of this object, is that they see 
the aged themselves strictly obedient to their rulers. 
They also teach them to be temperate in eating and 
drinking; and this is the more easily eifected, because 
they see that the old do not go to their meals until 
their rulers dismiss them, and also because the boys 
do not eat with their mothers, but with their teacher, 
and not until the ruler or president has given the sig¬ 
nal. They bring their food with them from home; 
bread, and no vegetable but cresses or nasturtiums: 
for drinking, they bring only a goblet, in order, when 
thirsty, to take their drink from the river. Besides 
these things, they learn the use of the bow and the jave¬ 
lin. In this they are practised to the sixteenth or 
seventeenth year of their age, but after this they are 
advanced among the young men These also 

have their prescribed mode of life, as follows: Ten 
years from the time of the expiration of their boyhood, 
they are lodged, as has been said above, about the 
state-buildings (palaces), both in order to guard the 
city, and to preserve their habits of self-government; 
for this age appears to stand most in need of careful 
attention. During the day, also, they are required to 
be ready to assist, especially when the rulers require 
it, in any duty connected with the common good; and 


THE PERSIANS. 


29 


when such occasions are likely to arise, they all re¬ 
main about the state-buildings. But when the king 
goes out hunting, which he is wont to do frequently 
every month, he takes with him the half of this 
guard. When they go out with him, they are requi¬ 
red to be furnished with a bow, quiver, and a sword 
in a scabbard, or a battle-axe ; and, besides, with a 
shield and two javelins, in order that, if one have been 
thrown, they may have another at hand, in case of 
necessity. But the reason why the chase is thus 
made a public matter, and why the king himself is 
their leader in the chase as well as in war, and urges 
on the others as well as hunting himself, is this, that 
the chase is regarded as the most suitable training for 
war; for it habituates to early rising, and the endu¬ 
rance of cold and heat; it exercises in walking and 
running, for it is necessary to pursue with bow and 
javelin any wild animal that may show itself. And 
the exercise of courage is often necessary in the 
chase, in case one of the more powerful animals 
should offer resistance ; for when the animal is en¬ 
countered, it must be struck down, and if it attacks, it 
must be contended with ; so that the qualities requi¬ 
red in war are not easily dispensed with in the chase. 

“ When they go hunting they carry their breakfast 
with them, being, of course, a larger portion than that 
given to the boys, but the same in kind. But while 
out hunting they would not eat breakfast, but they 
take this to serve for supper in case they should tarry 
longer, on account of some animal, or otherwise pre¬ 
fer to prolong the chase ; the following day they con¬ 
tinue hunting until supper-time, and thus they count 
these two days as one, because they consume food 
only for one day. But this they do in order to accus¬ 
tom themselves to such privations, so that, if required 
in war, they may be able to do the same. The only 
additional dish which these young men have, consists 
of what they take in the chase; if they capture 
nothing, they have only their cresses. If any one 
should consider cresses with bread but meager fpe, 
or complain that he has nothing but water to drink, 
C2 


30 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


let him remember how sweet broth and bread are to 
him who eats with an appetite, and how sweet water 
is to him that is thirsty. 

“ The divisions which remain at home are mean¬ 
while engaged in those other arts which they have 
learned as boys, in shooting arrows and hurling the 
javelin; and in these practices they strenuously con¬ 
tend for pre-eminence. There are also public games 
of this kind, in which prizes are proposed, and the 
division which can show the greatest number of the 
most expert, manly, and prompt in obedience, earns 
praise and honour from the citizens, not only for 
themselves for the time being, but for him who in¬ 
structed them as boys. 

“ The rulers also employ the young men who re¬ 
main behind, either when there is anywhere need of 
a guard, or when malefactors are to be discovered, or 
robbers to be taken, or in any other service demand¬ 
ing strength and speed. This, then, is the business 
of the young men. When they have thus completed 
their term of ten years, they are advanced among the 
men of mature age. 

“ These, from the time when they cease to be e^rjOoi 
(young men), spend twenty-five years in the follow¬ 
ing manner. In the first place, they, like the e^rjtoL, 
are required to be in attendance upon the rulers, in 
order to render any service called for by the common 
good, and requiring men of prudent mind and tried 
ability. When a military enterprise becomes neces¬ 
sary, then those who have been educated in the man¬ 
ner prescribed, no longer carry bows or javelins, but 
arms for close conflict (called ^ cuirass on 

the breast, a shield in the left hand, as the Persians 
are represented in paintings; in the right hand a 
sword or a dagger. From among these are also 
taken all the magistrates, the rulers of the boys ex¬ 
cepted. After they have spent five-and-twenty years 
in this manner, they are somewhat more than fifty 
years of age, and they now enter the class composed 
of those who are old, and are so designated. These 
aged men no longer render military service out of 


THE PERSIANS. 


31 


their country, but, remaining at home, they admin¬ 
ister justice in public and private matters. They also 
decree capital punishments, and act, in general, as 
magistrates ; and if any one, either among the young, 
or among the men of mature age, offend against the 
laws, the ruler of the respective division, or any one 
else that thinks proper to do so, informs against him. 
The old men now give him a hearing, and pass sen¬ 
tence upon him ; and the person condemned becomes 
infamous for the rest of his life. 

“ But, in order that the whole constitution of the 
Persians may be clearly before us, I must go back a 
little; for, in consequence of what has been said, a 
concise view may now be presented. The Persians 
are said to number about one hundred and twenty 
thousand, and none of these is excluded, by law, 
from honours and offices; but all Persians have the 
privilege of sending their sons into the public schools 
of justice. But those only send their boys who are 
able to maintain them, without requiring their labour; 
those who cannot afford this, do not send theirs. 
Those who have been instructed by the public teach¬ 
ers have the privilege of advancing into the class of 
^<j) 7 } 6 oL ; but this is denied those who have not enjoyed 
this instruction. 

“ Those who have, as ^<pT] 6 ot, well performed what 
the law prescribes to that class, are privileged to ad¬ 
vance into the division of the men of mature age, and 
to receive honours and offices; whereas those who 
have not spent their time among those boys, or those 
do not enter the class of mature men; and, in 
the same manner, those are ranked among the old 
men who have passed with credit through all the 
previous classes. This is the constitution adopted 
by the Persians, with a view to becoming the best 
possible citizens. 

“ They still enjoy the reputation of taking food with 
moderation, and of using such exercise as is neces¬ 
sary for the digestion of their food. And it is still 
disreputable among the Persians openly to spit, to 
blow the nose, and to give evidence of ffatulency; it 


32 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


is considered disgraceful to be seen going aside for 
the purpose of making water, or for any such pur¬ 
pose. All this they would be unable consistently to 
observe, if they did not eat moderately, and consume 
those fluids by labour, so that they pass off in some 
other way.” 

Thus far our author treats of the general subject 
of Persian education, and certainly the picture 
which he presents to us is a beautiful one. It has 
one feature which deserves special attention, and 
that is, that education in Persia took up man at an 
early age as an active member of society, to whom 
his appropriate sphere was assigned, and that this 
education consisted, in a great measure, in the prac¬ 
tical training which he received in the duties of his 
respective sphere of life. It appears to us that our 
age might learn an important lesson here. 

SECTION III. 

WESTERN ASIA. 

This division of Asia comprises the Phoenicians, 
the Carthaginians (who belong here, as the principal 
colony of the Phoenicians), the Lydians, the Phry¬ 
gians, and the Scythians. Among these, the Phoe¬ 
nicians sustain the most important relation to ancient 
civilization; and the Scythians are particularly inter¬ 
esting, because of the account given, in connexion 
with them, by Herodotus, of a distinct tribe or peo¬ 
ple, whom he calls “ M.e’Xayx^o.ivoL, aJJKo iOvog, Kai bv 
GKvdLK.ov,'’' and who w'ere probably, in part, our Teu¬ 
tonic forefathers. But we know nothing, except by 
inference, respecting the education of these nations. 

SECTION IV. 

AFRICA. 

I. ETHIOPIANS (merge). 

These, according to the account of Herodotus and 
the allusions of Homer, were a highly interesting 
people. Their culture resembled that of the Egyp- 


THE EGYPTIANS. 


33 


tians, but never reached the same eminence. Modem 
travellers have introduced us to a nearer acquaintance 
with the country which the Ethiopians inhabited, and 
which comprehends the present Nubia and Sennaar. 
These travellers all speak, with the highest admira¬ 
tion, of the past magnificence of this people, the tra¬ 
ces of which remain, after the lapse of thousands of 
years. And it is much to be regretted, that besides 
these monuments, we have received no information 
respecting their ancient culture and history. 

II. EGYPTIANS. 

The Egyptians are one of the best known and most 
important of the civilized nations of antiquity. The 
earliest inhabitants of the Valley of the Nile were 
so-called Ichthyophagi, and in a completely barba¬ 
rous state. A race of foreigners brought civilization 
among them. These were of a light complexion, 
and, though originally, it is supposed, from India, they 
entered Egypt from the south, from beyond the cata¬ 
racts of the Nile, probably from Meroe, and, settling in 
Upper Egypt, in the progress of time occupied and 
cultivated Middle and Lower Egypt: and thus arose 
successively the separate states of Elephantine and 
Thebes, This, Heracleopolis, Memphis, and subse¬ 
quently several in the Delta, especially Sais. They 
were independent of each other, each having its own 
divinity and worship, its own temple and peculiar 
sacred animals, &c. Yet certain divinities they had 
in common, such as Osiris and Isis, which were wor¬ 
shipped throughout Egypt. 

After this arrangement had subsisted for many cen¬ 
turies, Sesostris, about 1300 A.C., united the separate 
states in one kingdom, yet so as, on the whole, to 
retain the authority of the priesthood, which had held 
the government from the beginning. The aborigines 
had partly emigrated, and in part been incorporated 
with the immigrants. The civilization of Egypt dates 
from the remotest antiquity, at least 2000 A.C. 

We must suppose the reader to be acquainted with 
the history of Egypt, with its religious system, and 


34 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


the character and privileges of the priesthood; with 
the permanent division of the people into castes, and 
the strictly hereditary nature of all secular occupa¬ 
tions, as well as other matters, which, however im¬ 
portant, cannot be detailed here. We proceed to give 
a succinct account of their education. 

The very respectable degree of civilization attained 
by the Egyptians leads us to infer, that their educa¬ 
tion, however different in the different castes, was in 
the main well regulated and effective. There has, 
however, little certain information respecting it come 
down to us. 

The three principal institutions for the education 
of the priests were at Thebes, Memphis, and Heliop¬ 
olis. Into these institutions it is probable that none 
but young men were received, who passed through a 
long course of graduated studies: for we find here 
the same divisions as among the Brahmins, into exote¬ 
ric and esoteric students. Among the former, pupils 
were admitted who did not belong to the priestly 
caste, so that it is uncertain to what extent strangers 
could be initiated into the higher mysteries. 

Here were studied the different sciences, in which 
the Egyptians excelled all their contemporaries : as 
tronomy, mathematics (geometry and arithmetic), 
chemistry, of which, as their skill in embalming and 
in mixing colours proves, they possessed much prac¬ 
tical knowledge; architecture, sculpture, painting, 
music, medicine, &c. It is obvious that some of 
these could, without danger to their mysteries, be 
communicated, at least to a certain extent, to the un¬ 
initiated. Among other methods of instruction in 
arithmetic, they made use of the a6af, a counting-table 
furnished with small stones. The teachers were 
priests, of whom each had his particular department. 

As in Egypt the common people could read, and 
write, and even cipher, without which latter acquisi¬ 
tion the women could not transact their market busi¬ 
ness, the children must, of course, have received in¬ 
struction in these branches of knowledge, and hence 
the Egyptians cannot well have been without com- 


THE EGYPTIANS. 


35 


mon schools. This seems to be attested by Plato, 
who says, De Leg., 6, fin., that the children of the 
Egyptians learned reading together. This is all the 
information we have on this point. In the mechanical 
trades, the fathers were the instructers of their sons. 
Gymnastics were also practised in Egypt: and in 
warlike exercises, the young men of the military caste 
were instructed by their fathers. 

The children of the priests, both sons and daugh¬ 
ters, were much better educated than those of the 
other castes. The education of the king’s sons re¬ 
ceived the utmost attention. Their instructers were 
the priests, and their only companions were the best 
educated among the sons of the priests, who were 
over twenty years of age. These companions of the 
young princes w^ere not only chosen on account of 
their rank, but according to the degree of culture 
which they had attained: a wise measure, which was 
adopted also in the Asiatic monarchies. 

In general, education was, among all classes, do¬ 
mestic ; pre-eminently so among the priests. For 
among them monogamy prevailed, while in other 
castes the men might take as many wives as they 
pleased. The wives of the priests were undoubtedly 
better educated than the women of the other castes, 
and had more leisure for attending to the early edu¬ 
cation of their children. The state of degradation to 
which all the nations of antiquity had, more or less, 
reduced the female sex, was doubtless a great injury 
to the children, and gave to their education a widely 
different character from ours. The fixed institutions 
of the Egyptians, which gave to each caste its sphere, 
and made occupations hereditary in families, no doubt 
greatly facilitated the process of education; but, at 
the same time, it greatly cramped and narrowed it 
down. In the education of the Egyptians we find all 
the benefits peculiar to such an organization—the 
steadfast adherence to a peaceful life during centuries 
of prosperity; but we see also all the evils of it, in its 
arresting the development of the intellect, crushing 


36 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


the aspirations of genius, and imposing adamantine 
chains on the freedom of thought. 

Respecting the other African nations, we know so 
little that we can merely suppose that, through com¬ 
mercial intercourse, and the oracle of Jupiter Ammon, 
they were, to some extent, made partakers of the civ¬ 
ilization of the Ethiopians and Egyptians. The latest 
discoveries in the civilized countries of Central Afri¬ 
ca, e. g., of the kingdom of Sudan, confirm this con¬ 
jecture, although their present civilization is derived 
from the Mohammedans. 

The civilization or culture of those nations of 
whom we have hitherto treated, may be described as 
having been fixed or stationary. That which re¬ 
mains is free and progressive in its development, 
or was so as long as the nations to whom it belonged 
had a political existence. The people, which here 
first claims our attention, is the ancient covenant- 
people of God, whose distinct national (not political) 
existence, even to the present day, under circum¬ 
stances the most extraordinary, is one of the most 
remarkable phenomena in the history of mankind, to 
be accounted for only by acknowledging that Divine 
Providence has miraculously provided for the fulfil¬ 
ment of prophecy, and the attainment of infinitely 
wise and good purposes. 

SECTION V. 

THE ISRAELITES OR HEBREWS. 

Intensely interesting as is the history of this peo¬ 
ple, of their civilization and religion, we cannot here 
dwell upon it, both because it would not be much to 
our present purpose, as we know little of their edu¬ 
cation, and because the same source of information 
from which we could draw, is, or ought to be, in the 
hands of all. 

The civilization of the Hebrews had a peculiar 
character of its own, not without a considerable 
admixture of Egyptian culture. It owed its pecu- 


THE HEBREWS. 


37 


liarities, in a great measure, to the character and 
mode of life of their great ancestor Abraham, and 
of his immediate descendants, and to the patriarchal 
government that prevailed among them, and gave a 
peculiar complexion to their social system; but, 
above all, to the mighty influence of their glori¬ 
ous religion, of their holy law, in which they were 
instructed by men divinely commissioned, and of 
their theocratic polity. Their religion, derived di¬ 
rectly from heaven, was the inherited means or 
instrument of this nation’s culture. Their glorious 
literature, rich in the most magnificent compositions 
in prose and poetry, presenting the only authentic 
and true account of the origin of the world, and the 
early history of our race ; constituting, in its history, 
its revealed truths, its devotional productions, its 
moral precepts and discourses, and in its wonderful 
prophecies, the basis of that religion which it was 
designed to introduce, whose influence has regener¬ 
ated a great portion of mankind, given a new impulse 
and direction to human culture, and which is carrying 
its noiseless and peaceable conquests to the uttermost 
ends of the earth: this literature requires no discus¬ 
sion here ; it is in the hands of the high and the low, 
the rich and the poor, and, accessible to all, invites 
all to receive its divine instruction. 

We proceed, then, to give a brief account of He¬ 
brew education. The subordinate position of woman, 
so characteristic of the East, was among the He¬ 
brews also a great hinderance to education. \et 
among them, as the readers of Scripture know, pow¬ 
erful religious influences, which gave to wedded life, 
and to the relation between parents and children, a sa¬ 
credness not known among other Eastern nations, 
greatly contributed to the melioration of this evil. 
The absence of castes was also favourable to the 
free development of mind, and of character, among 
the Israelites. 

Although it was usual for mothers to suckle their 
children themselves, it was not uncommon to employ 
wet-nurses, even as early as in the time of the pa- 
D 


88 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


triarclis. They also had male attendants for their 
children. We find, therefore, that among the He¬ 
brews, as with us, persons were employed to assist 
the parents in the business of education, and in some 
cases, to supply their place. In the time of David, 
already there were educators, or superintendents, or 
governors for the king’s sons, who were men of dis¬ 
tinction, such as Jehiel Ben Hachmoni, with David’s 
sons, and especially the prophet Nathan, to whom 
Solomon’s education was intrusted, and who called 
his pupil, the future wise king, by the name of Jede- 
diah, the beloved of the Lord.* 

After the children were weaned, which was usually 
done in their third year, they grew up and were educa¬ 
ted in the bosom of the family, and their education 
took its character more from domestic usage, and na¬ 
tional custom, than from regular institutions. Their 
physical education was not exactly calculated to ren¬ 
der them hardy, but their moral discipline was strict 
and vigorous. The rod was in common use, and 
this rigid discipline was made the duty of parents; 
and an indulgent father, like Eli, was accounted re¬ 
sponsible for the evil conduct of his children. 

The education of the Hebrews was thoroughly reli¬ 
gious, and in the father, who acted in the name of God, 
supreme authority was vested. Respect and rever¬ 
ence of old age was a religious duty, expressly incul¬ 
cated in the divine law. See Levit., xix., 32. » 

The father’s authority over his children continued 
.as long as they remained in the parental home. The 
obedience of children towards their parents was rig¬ 
orously enforced, and disobedient sons exposed them¬ 
selves to the sanctions of the law. The punish¬ 
ments for the violation of filial duty were very severe. 
He who had cursed father or mother, i. e., grossly re¬ 
viled or contemned either, received a public maledic¬ 
tion and sentence of death. The same punishment 
was incurred by those who gave a blow to either pa¬ 
rent. Children were bound to support their parents, 

* See 1 Chron., xxvii., 32. 2 Sam., xii.,25. 1 Sam., i., 22, sqq.; ii., 11, 
eqq. 2 Kings, X., 1,6. 


THE HEBREWS. 


39 


when these were unable to maintain themselves. A 
son addicted to strong drink, or otherwise dissolute, 
was subject to stoning. 

It was, therefore, the father’s great concern to edu¬ 
cate his children in the law of Jehovah, and adapt to 
this end the arrangements of his household. He was 
required to impress on their minds the general com¬ 
mandments, frequently to call them to their remem¬ 
brance, and to enjoin especially the fundamental com¬ 
mandment of love to God. At the same time, special 
laws were to be inculcated on every suitable occasion. 
The observance of the ceremonial law habituated the 
children to cleanliness and wholesome diet, which 
had, not only physically, but morally, a happy influ¬ 
ence. Self-pollution was guarded against by a special 
statute. In general, the customs and arrangements 
of the family were calculated to promote love to the 
law, to the whole nation, and to the only true God. 

This religious education was rich in instruction, 
which exerted an influence on the Hebrew’s entire 
mode of life; for this instruction was historical, not 
only communicating oral information respecting what 
Jehovah had, in times past, done and commanded, but 
initiating, by its practices, rites, ceremonies, and 
feasts, the young in the national culture. The edu¬ 
cation of the Israelites was truly national. 

The oral instruction of children in the law was 
commenced as soon as they could repeat the words 
pronounced in their hearing. In the fourth year they 
were taught the alphabet, and began in the fifth to 
learn to read. This early instruction in reading, in 
which the father was the teacher, appears, however, 
to have been introduced at a later period of the Jew¬ 
ish history, for the express purpose of accustoming 
the young to the sacred language, and enabling them 
to read the word of God. 

There is, indeed, mention made of writing (Deut., 
vi., 9, et al.), but not as a subject of domestic instruc¬ 
tion, and it is not probable that the people generally 
were able to write. Still less reason is there to be¬ 
lieve, that in ancient times the boys were instructed in 


40 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


arithmetic. Nor is there any evidence that there were 
schools for boys, or that the Levites gave instruction 
in families. The father appears generally to have 
been the teacher, and to have instructed his sons by 
his own example, and by practical illustrations, in 
those attainments which they were required to make, 
among which was vocal and instrumental music. 

At twenty years of age the young man was enroll¬ 
ed among the warriors ; and all the men, with the 
exception of the Levites, were required to render mil¬ 
itary service until their fiftieth year. 

The education of females was not exactly neglect¬ 
ed, yet they received less than the other sex; and 
even the daughters of the priests could neither read 
nor write ; but they enjoyed the common privilege of 
growing up in the bosom of the family, in which kind¬ 
ness and alfectionate solicitude watched over the de¬ 
velopment of their character, and trained them up in 
habits of cleanliness, piety, and modesty. They were 
not only educated to be faithful and skilful house¬ 
wives, but to appear respectably in public. They 
wrought in flax, hemp, wool, cotton, camels’ and 
goats’ hair; possessed great skill in spinning, w^eav- 
ing, fulling, and dyeing; in making garments for 
themselves and their families ; in working tapestry 
and tents; and were perhaps as skilful in embroidery 
as their neighbours, the Sidonian women. They 
learned to cook and to bake ; and although females of 
rank or wealth left the affairs of the kitchen to female 
slaves, the daughters of kings did not regard the art 
of cookery as beneath their dignity. Instructed in 
music and dancing, the young Hebrew women may 
be said to have received some measure of aesthetic ed¬ 
ucation; but these accomplishments were valued 
chiefly on account of their connexion with religious 
rites and festivals. 

The education of the Hebrews was not, in the strict 
acceptation of the term, a national education ; but it 
Avas in the strictest sense domestic, and thus also na¬ 
tional, and its good fruits often became manifest in 
the course of their checkered history. They were 


THE GREEKS. 41 

wont often to repeat its fundamental principle : “ the 
fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.” 

It is scarcely necessary to say that the considera¬ 
tion of the schools of the prophets would here be out 
of place, especially as their real character cannot be 
ascertained. The later schools of rabbinical learning, 
however interesting in many respects, we also omit, 
as they are not exactly embraced by our present 
plan. 


SECTION VI. 

THE CLASSIC NATIONS: OR, THE GREEKS 
AND ROMANS. 

I. THE GREEKS. 

The important relation which the culture of the 
Greeks and Romans sustains to modern education; 
the mighty influence which their literature exerts 
upon that of Europe and our own country, and the in¬ 
tense interest with which every man of liberal educa¬ 
tion must regard those nations, with whose great 
minds he has been in delightful intercourse, and culti¬ 
vated an ever-growing intimacy, from the early days^ 
of his academic studies, demand that we should con¬ 
sider, somewhat extensively, the influences which pro¬ 
duced their peculiar culture, so long the admiration 
of the enlightened world; or, in other words, that we 
should give as extended a view of their education as 
our limits will permit. While, therefore, we begin 
with the Greeks, we request the reader to impress, 
anew upon his mind their history from the earliest 
times, as our limited space would, at best, admit only 
of a meager outline of a great historic picture, which 
ought to be viewed in all its fulness of detail, and 
freshness of colouring. 

The ante-Homeric era of the Greeks presents to our 
view their culture rather in masses, like the confluent 
light of the nebulae; and we discern less the educa:- 
tion of youth, than certain influences which operated 
on the whole body of the people, and on a grand 
D 2 


42 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


scale; and among these, next to religion, music and 
poetry are prominent. We therefore turn to particu¬ 
lar stars of that ancient world, whose light comes 
down to us from a distance less remote. These are 
framers of states, legislators, and, at the same time, 
educators ; or they are distinct institutions, promotive 
of national culture ; or they are entire states, in which 
we find the Grecian idea of education brought to a 
high degree of development, and offering instruction 
even to our age. In following the current of time, 
the following periods present themselves to our con¬ 
sideration. The Homeric era; the Dorians in their 
principal seats, especially the Spartans; the philo¬ 
sophic schools ; Athenian education; the Athenian ed¬ 
ucators, and the Grecian culture of their, and subse¬ 
quent, times. These cycles of culture will be classi¬ 
fied under the names of men who are worthy to be 
placed at their head, as follows: 1. Homer. 2. Ly- 
curgus. 3. Pythagoras. 4. Solon. 5. Socrates. 6. 
Plato. 7. Aristotle. 

1. Homer. Achaians and Hellenes. 

Homer, acquainted with the manners and countries 
of the people dwelling about the eastern portion of 
the Mediterranean, shines, by his intellectual culture, 
which he probably acquired by travel, perhaps even 
in Egypt, as a great and brilliant star of that ancient 
time. The knowledge which he acquired, assumed 
with him a Grecian form. All his collected treasures 
were remodelled by the creative power of the genius 
of beauty. From the gods which he found, he formed 
the Grecian Olympus, and the world to which it was 
sacred, and his poems became the schoolbooks of 
the Greeks; his mythology, his historical narratives, 
his moral precepts, his geography, and his ethnology, 
became the substratum of whatever was spoken or 
taught in the Greek language. 

Glorious are the ideals of Homer, not only as sub¬ 
jects for the plastic arts, but also on account of a cer¬ 
tain moral power and grandeur: male and female 
characters of lofty conception, comprising the twelve 


THE GREEKS. 


43 


higher divinities; and they have thus always exerted 
a powerful influence, even upon our culture. For the 
history of education, Homer’s works contain, in mul¬ 
tiplied hints and portraitures, a mine from which we 
shall offer a few gems. Achilles, his principal hero, 
was at a tender age intrusted to the care of the faith¬ 
ful Phoenix, who educated him, and was in his old 
age highly esteemed by his pupil.—See II., ix., 485. 
His friend Patroclus was educated with him, in the pal¬ 
ace of Peleus.—II., xxiii., 84, sqq. Homer’s second 
ideal is Ulysses, a man of refinement and extensive 
culture, which appears in his moderation and calm 
discretion, in his rigid self-government, and his com¬ 
prehensive knowledge of the world and of men. In 
his son Telemachus we see a well-educated young 
man, whose prominent traits of character, filial rev¬ 
erence, youthful ardour and enterprise, and artless 
modesty, are depicted with evident delight by our 
poet.—See the Odyssee. 

Hector, who, in our estimation, is the noblest of the 
Homeric heroes, was humane, generous, and exem¬ 
plary in his relations to gods and men, towards pa¬ 
rents, brothers and sisters, wife and child. A beau¬ 
tiful repose characterizes this picture of the Tro¬ 
jan hero. There are many allusions in Homer to the 
educational practices of his time. From Od., xv., 
262, it appears that persons of rank sometimes edu¬ 
cated the children of others with their own. An 
aged man, Phylas, is represented as educating the 
orphan child of his daughter as his own son.—II., 
xvi., 191. 

Beautiful and instructive are the following pas¬ 
sages : II., xxii., 490-508. Od., ix., 34, sqq. II., xvi., 
7-10. II., vi., 466, sqq. II., xxiii., 588. 

Homer’s female characters are far from being des¬ 
titute of knowledge and good culture; witness Pe¬ 
nelope, Arete, and her admirably-educated daughter 
Nausikaa. 

From the time of Homer down to the period in 
which we behold the Grecian states in a clearer his¬ 
toric light, various institutions of an educational char- 


44 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


acter appear to have existed. Such were the medical 
schools of the Asclepiades in Cos, at Crotona in Mag¬ 
na Graecia, at Cnidus, and at Rhodes. No doubt 
there were other schools for boys, as they were in¬ 
structed in vocal music, for which purpose they were 
necessarily, in some way or other, associated under a 
teacher. The common schools which, at the time of 
the Peloponnesian war, existed even in Bceotia, lead 
us to infer that similar institutions were established 
at an early period. This inference is sustained by 
the traces found, at a very early period, in Magna 
Graecia, and in other regions of Italy settled by 
Greeks. Nor was the influence of the gymnastic in¬ 
stitutions, the several public games, unimportant in 
respect of mental and moral culture. 

2. Lycurgus and the Spartans. 

The peculiar culture of the Spartans, which was 
originated by Lycurgus, is less interesting or impor¬ 
tant to our age than that of the other Grecian states. 
For this reason, but also because there are many 
things connected with Spartan education, nay, essen¬ 
tial features of it, which would be offensive to the 
modesty of the well-educated reader, we shall forbear 
entering much into detail. The prominent charac¬ 
teristics of the culture of the Spartans may be readily 
ascertained from any good work on general history; 
e. g., the larger work of Tytler, to which the general 
reader is referred. 

It must be conceded that the idea of Lycurgus, 
though it embraced little more than the physical cul¬ 
ture of man, was a grand one. It was clearly con¬ 
ceived, admirably developed, consistently carried out, 
and invested with permanent authority by an extra¬ 
ordinary example, on the part of its author, of self¬ 
consecration to the attainment of some great pur¬ 
pose. The fundamental principle of the national cul¬ 
ture which he originated, and of the education which, 
in subserviency to it, he established, was, that all chil¬ 
dren belong to the state immediately, and not merely 
because the parents belong to it. 


THE GREEKS. 


45 


It was the desire and glory of Sparta to possess a 
beautiful and brave race of people, healthy in body 
and soul, blooming sons and daughters. While war 
was the great business of the state, to raise, to edu¬ 
cate a vigorous race of warriors was its great con¬ 
cern. To train up hardy citizens was the aim of 
Spartan education ; and to the attainment of this, 
all its provisions and methods were admirably adapt¬ 
ed. Immediately upon the birth of a child, the state 
asserted its paramount right over it; for it depended 
on a public decision, whether it should be permitted 
to live. The father was required to bring his new¬ 
born child to the older inhabitants of his uSa, or quar¬ 
ter of the city, who met in a hall {Xsaxv ); these in¬ 
spected the child, in order to ascertain whether it 
was well-proportioned and healthy. If they found it 
to be so, they ordered that it should be raised; but if 
it was weakly or deformed, they caused it to be cast 
into the chasm of the Taygetus. From early infancy 
the children were subjected to treatment, and habitu¬ 
ated to diet, calculated to render them hardy. 

In early childhood already they were required to 
submit to the annual dtafxaaTiyiocng, or scourging; when 
small boys, together with older ones, and young men, 
who had allowed themselves to be detected in steal¬ 
ing, were scourged even to blood. Under this inflic¬ 
tion they were not permitted to utter cries, and their 
parents stood by to administer encouragement. If 
they held out without giving signs of suffering, they 
were crowned, as victors, with a wreath; but many 
perished under the operation. 

Unlike the Persians, the Spartans intrusted chil¬ 
dren, during the first seven years of life, to the affec¬ 
tionate care of their parents, and besides them, only 
the nurse had any charge over them. After the sev¬ 
enth year the boy was surrendered to the public ed¬ 
ucation, in which he passed through a number of dif¬ 
ferent grades or stages until he was thirty years of 
age, when he was accounted a man, and belonged en¬ 
tirely to the service of the state and of war. 

The aged stood, in high respect, and reverence for 
the old was strictly inculcated upon the young. 


46 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


When the boy entered on the public course of edu¬ 
cation, the principle was laid down, that the Spartan 
must learn, from his early youth, to govern and to be 
governed; and therefore the young must, above all 
things, learn to obey. At the same time, they were 
required to engage in athletic exercises; and their 
minds were trained to prompt activity. Even the 
boys were thus intellectually exercised, and practised, 
daily and rigidly, in thinking clearly, in judging cor¬ 
rectly, in speaking the truth, and in expressing them¬ 
selves briefly; from which latter practice, for which 
the Spartans were noted, we have the word laconic. 
These exercises were often introduced at meals. 

When the young commenced their course of public 
education, they were required to go barefoot: their 
hair was closely cropped, and they received a sort of 
cap, and were made to clothe themselves lightly. At 
twelve years of age they exchanged their for 
a cloak, which had to last them at least a year. 

The black soup was as yet considered too strong 
for them; their own meager fare they were com¬ 
pelled to prepare themselves. If, in addition to it, 
they could steal anything from the gardens or the 
tables of the men, this was permitted, as a practice in 
artifice and skill; but they were punished if they 
allowed themselves to be detected. Their couches 
were rushes, just as they pulled them up at the Eu- 
rotas. On these they, slept in companies, and were 
not, in winter, allowed any additional comfort, except 
a portion of a certain other plant, mingled among the 
rushes. 

Their instruction was limited to gymnastics, music 
(vocal, and on the lyre and flute), orchestics, i. e., se¬ 
vere athletic exercises, and dancing. Reading and 
writing were not required, and therefore much neg¬ 
lected ; grammar was, therefore, not thought of, and 
still less rhetoric, as the art of oratory was despised 
in Sparta. A little arithmetic, especially mental, 
was taught for the uses of common life. This whole 
course of education was managed by the public 
teachers; yet the parents had considerable influence 


THE GREEKS. 


47 


in the training of their children. Notwithstanding 
the decided one-sidedness of Spartan education, it 
was often much commended, and even sometimes 
preferred to that of the Athenians. Ruddy and rug¬ 
ged health and bodily vigour, and severe self-govern¬ 
ment, were its principal results; yet, as it strictly 
inculcated love of country and a certain sort of piety, 
sharpened the understanding and communicated some 
degree of aesthetic culture, the claims of the mind 
were not totally neglected. It continued in oper¬ 
ation during several centuries, until, after the Pelo¬ 
ponnesian war, and still more, after the reign of Alex¬ 
ander the Great, the genius of Greece departed, and 
everything external perished that was not founded in 
intellectual culture. 

3. Pythagoras. Pyihagoraans. 

Pythagoras, born on an Asiatic island in the Medi¬ 
terranean, became the founder, among the western¬ 
most Greeks of Magna Graecia, of a philosophic sect, 
and the lawgiver of the Doric colony at Crotona. He 
was the first Greek in whom the spirit of the East 
was united with that of the West, and in whom the 
culture of Babylon, Egypt, and westernmost Asia 
combined to develop that of the Greeks in a new 
and glorious form. 

This great sage and educator of men was born on 
the island of Samos about 600 A.C. Respecting 
the history of his education there are various reports, 
which, after all, leave us in uncertainty. But certain 
it is that Pythagoras, who early lost his father, at¬ 
tracted, already in his youth, the observation of all, 
by his extraordinary excellences of mind and char¬ 
acter : there was something highly dignified and sage¬ 
like {aefivoTarog Kat oucppovecraTog) in his appearance, so 
that he was accounted a son of Apollo. At the age 
of twenty-two he left his native land, and sailed to 
Syros, where he visited the celebrated Pherecydes, 
and, finding him in ill health, took care of him till 
his death. From here he went to Anaximander, 
and afterward to Thales, Avho found his expectations 


48 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


respecting him more than realized. Thales, one of 
the most profound and learned thinkers, was then suf¬ 
fering of the infirmities of old age, and therefore ad¬ 
vised his young visiter to proceed to Egypt, in order 
to enjoy the instruction of the priests. He first visited 
Sidon, Avhere he was initiated in the sacred mysteries 
of the Phenicians. Arrived in Egypt, he visited the 
temples and the priests, whose esteem and love he 
everywhere gained, and who admitted him to privi¬ 
leges which no foreigner before him had ever enjoyed. 
He studied (according to a highly exaggerated state¬ 
ment, during twenty-two years) the geometry, as¬ 
tronomy, and theology of the Egyptians. Carried into 
captivity by Cambyses, who had invaded Egypt, he 
became acquainted with the Magi, and soon obtained 
their friendship and learned their sciences. After a 
sojourn among them of twelve years (probably exag¬ 
gerated), he at length returned to Samos, enriched 
with all the learning of his age, and familiar with the 
profoundest regions of thought. Hampered in his 
educational efforts in his native land, he commenced 
his travels anew; visited Delos, and afterward the 
different oracles; then proceeded to Crete, where he 
was initiated in the mysteries of that island; and 
thence he went to Sparta, made himself acquainted 
with the manners and customs of the Dorians, and 
studied the institutions of Lycurgus. After returning 
for a short time to Samos, he left it finally for Italy, 
where he arrived at Crotona, in Magna Graecia, in the 
sixty-second Olympiad. Here, having been received 
with great respect, this extraordinary man found, at 
length, an extensive sphere of action, in which his 
powerful and opulent mind could put forth all its ener¬ 
gies, and apply its hoarded wisdom. His influence in 
education and politics was immense, and the institu¬ 
tions which he founded were productive of the most 
extensive and happy effects. But, persecution having 
driven him to Metapontus, he incurred here also the 
rancour of faction, and is said, among other reports 
concerning his death, to have been slain in the dis¬ 
turbances which had arisen. Some authorities say 


THE GREEKS. 


49 ' 


that he died nearly one hundred years of age : accord¬ 
ing to Diogenes Laertius, he had reached his eightieth 
year. The Crotonians consecrated his house as a 
temple of Deineter, and in memory of him called 
their port Movmov. His philosophy continued to 
flourish in the celebrated Italic school. 

After this brief sketch of this true sage’s life, we 
proceed to give an account of his system of edu¬ 
cation, selecting from a vast amount of interesting 
and delightful materials only what is most essential, 
and present, in the first place, the prominent features 
of that culture of man which he aimed to exhibit in 
himself, and to realize in society through his pupils. 

Harmony in all things was the aim. This exists in 
the universe (hence Koa/xog), and is to be also in man 
(whence he is styled fiiKpoKoafiog). The harmony of 
the spheres finds its echo in the well-cultivated mind. 
To this we are brought by purification of the soul 
(Kadapaig), by self-knowledge {yvudt aavrov), and by 
devotion. Man, attaining thus to the perception of 
pure relations, of good order, and of heavenly beauty, 
is admitted also to constant converse with God 
{ofiiTieiv TO) and in this he finds his highest good. 
Purification advances through a succession of exer¬ 
cises, in a well-regulated life, both contemplative and 
active; for sensual gratification {Tjdovrj) defiles, con¬ 
ducts merely from one desire to the other, and plunges 
us into the torments of passion. But the human soul 
performs also a transmigration through different bod¬ 
ies (or human beings), in order to attain, when at 
length purified, to a higher state of being. 

Self-knowledge consists not only in our forming a 
correct estimate of our gifts and defects, but in ob¬ 
taining a more penetrating view of our minds, and in 
judging of them according to the relations of eternal 
order; but as this could be done by him only who had 
perfectly seen through the order of the universe, the 
effect of this will be that modesty, which will permit 
no man to esteem himself a (sage), for wisdom is 
only in God, and the highest that man can pretend to is 
to love and seek after wisdom, and to be a ; 

E 


50 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


and thus he is the true philosopher who meditates 
upon God and the world—the cause and the nature of 
things—the order of the universe—and the highest 
good. 

Whatsoever is good comes from the Divine Being (the 
gods), which rules over all, and orders all things. Man 
ought, therefore, to inquire after the will of the Deity; 
to do what is pleasing to that being, and to aim, by 
truth and morality, more and more to approximate 
his character. Prayer and good actions, and finally 
death, bring us near to God. The divine government 
is therefore the pattern for human government, both 
in the state and in the family; internal discord is 
worse than fire and sword, and anarchy is the great¬ 
est evil. As God notes all our actions, and regards 
nothing as beneath his notice, we ought to be watch¬ 
ful of ourselves, and careful of everything committed 
to our management. Man, being a iSpioriKov, re¬ 
quires guidance and rigorous control by means of 
laws and education. But justice is more important 
in its legislative than its judicial character, for it must 
so arrange matters that every man may be treated in 
the manner which is suited to him, so that every one 
may, from free impulse, obey the laws ; nay, that ev¬ 
ery one may acquire that inward harmony, which ev¬ 
erywhere strikes upon what is right and fitting. 

The highest aim of culture is to know things in 
their nature and pure relations, and to live and act ac¬ 
cordingly. And this is the nature of music : she per¬ 
ceives the harmony of the universe ; she copies it in 
the soul, and causes it to resound throughout the 
whole of life {povGiKTj TraidEla). 

Thus was the life of Pythagoras one of music ; of 
harmony between the life without and that within; 
an echo of the music of the spheres. He needed no 
earthly tones, for that music resounded in his ear. 
He saw in the laws of the planets those pure relations 
of the beautiful and the glorious, and he felt himself 
irresistibly impelled to exhibit or represent in human 
life what was thus present to his lofty mind : and 
thus he conceived the idea of education as no sage 


THE GREEKS. 


51 


had ever done before him. He had profoundly and 
maturely developed this idea. He aimed at the good 
of the community, which he sought to attain, by po¬ 
litical institutions, the education of youth, and the 
culture of men in general. Religion constituted the 
basis of that harmony which he sought to promote. 
He desired to make external order dependant on that 
which is inward ; civil liberty on nobleness of soul; 
the administration of state-affairs on the intellectual 
culture of the citizens ; the prosperity of the city on 
purity of morals. He wished to cultivate excellence 
of character in all, and the rulers were to be the most 
excellent. More immediately he educated young 
men at an institution of his own, but also adults, by 
lectures; and lastly children, by leading parents to the 
adoption of his principles of education. His institu¬ 
tion at Crotona was designed for adults, and he as¬ 
sembled around him a large number of young men, 
who, living with him, became his particular disciples. 
Each one was required to submit to a certain prepar¬ 
ation and initiation, to regulate his daily life accord¬ 
ing to certain rules and prescribed exercises, and to 
devote himself, as it were with body and soul, to his 
master. Thus his disciples led a common life, whence 
they were called koiv66loi. 

It is with extreme reluctance that we omit a great 
deal that is valuable and delightful in the practice of 
this extraordinary man, in order to describe the order 
of things at his institution, which was as follows : In 
the morning, all dressed themselves in a clean white 
robe, sang to the accompaniment of the lyre, and ad¬ 
dressed a prayer to the rising sun. Hereupon they 
repeated the instructions of the preceding day, and pre¬ 
pared themselves for what might happen to them on 
the day which had just begun. Then each pupil took 
a solitary walk, in order to bring his mind into a calm 
and placid state for the day. After this, they all as¬ 
sembled to receive instruction, to which succeeded 
bodily exercise. At noon they partook of a little 
bread and honey: no wine at all was allowed. After 
ffinner, business vras resumed: towards evening, par- 


52 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


ticiilar friends took walks together, and discoursed on 
what they had learned. Thereupon each one went 
into his bath, after which they partook of another 
meal, never more than ten eating in company. They 
began with a libation and scattering incense, and then 
ate moderately of the food which was allowed them, 
being chiefly vegetables, and the meat of those ani¬ 
mals only which they could otfer in sacrifice. At 
this meal they also took a little wine. It ended with 
another libation, after which one of the younger pu¬ 
pils was required to read something under the direc¬ 
tion of one of the older ones, and, at separating, the 
senior pupil pronounced some precepts ; for example, 
that no useful animal or plant should be injured ; that 
pious thoughts should be cherished towards gods, de¬ 
mons and heroes^ parents, and good men; and the 
like. And now each one laid himself down on his 
couch, and ended the day with serious communion 
with himself. Many articles of food were forbidden 
them, and of meat they ate but little ; and, in fact, they 
were not to drink wine, from which Pythagoras himself 
abstained altogether. Music was with him a prominent 
means of culture, and he employed it for the purifica¬ 
tion of the mind, and the subjugation of the passions. 
Hence, with song and instrumental music, especially 
of the lyre, began and ended the day. His pupils had 
particular songs against particular excessive emotions 
and passions, as also peculiar metres and tunes. He 
made use, also, of choice verses from Homer and He¬ 
siod, to awaken good thoughts and cultivate right feel¬ 
ings. 

A certain discipline {Trai^apraaic) was introduced 
among his pupils, which required the older ones affec¬ 
tionately and tenderly to counsel the younger, to in¬ 
struct them without envy, and kindly to assist them: 
it was the duty of the younger ones to submit to the au¬ 
thority thus given to their seniors. Good morals were 
rigidly enforced; friends were not allowed to speak 
untruths to each other, even in jest. The influence 
of friendship in the culture of man was highly estima¬ 
ted ; through it, the disciples of Pythagoras were to 


THE GREEKS. 


53 


elevate each other mutually to the divine. His 
principle was, “ friends have everything in com¬ 
mon and “ our friend is our second self, our alter 
ego.” The tone of their whole associated life was 
unity and harmony : contention and ill-will were pos¬ 
itively interdicted : love prevailed throughout. To 
their master they were devoted for life and death. 
They were expected to accustom themselves to main¬ 
tain friendship with the whole universe, and to be in 
communion with the gods, waking and sleeping. 
Even between men and beasts a friendly relation was 
to subsist. The depths of the mind were to be the 
abode of purity, undisturbed by passion, untainted by 
aught that was rude or base, so that its inward eye 
might be opened, which was valued more than a hun¬ 
dred outward eyes. 

That these doctrines of Pythagoras were not mere¬ 
ly speculative, that his method of education was pro¬ 
foundly and pervasively efficient, was abundantly at¬ 
tested by the high, the exemplary character sustained 
by his pupils. They everywhere obtained the respect 
and esteem of all. In the Grecian cities of southern 
Italy (or Magna Graecia), the happy elfects of his in¬ 
stitution soon manifested themselves, in the revolution 
which it effected in all the relations of life, in all the 
institutions of society, to the admiration of all the 
neighbouring states. 

Such was the system and the activity of Pythago¬ 
ras, a phenomenon equally important for politics and 
for pedagogics. 

But he was not merely a legislator, limited to the 
city in which he lived, or to the confederated cities of 
Magna Graecia. He was the founder, also, of a sodality, 
or association, or sect, which extended itself farther 
under the name of the Pythagoraean, and possessed a 
sort of secret or esoteric doctrine, in which he was, 
of course, the teacher. He taught the sciences of 
that period, particularly those of Egypt. These were 
mathematics, astronomy, natural science, and medi¬ 
cine, in their different branches. Astrology he ap¬ 
pears to have discarded. 

E 2 


54 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


Unlike many who are great in their systems, he was 
truly a philosopher in his capacity of instructor. He 
exercised the minds of his pupils, and gave them a di¬ 
rection and impulse, M’hich prevented their merely 
learning his system, or repeating his words, but led 
them to think for themselves, and with freedom to 
cultivate the intellect. In this process of culture, he 
insisted on three requisites: Ciyx^voia^ fJLvijfiri : 

acuteness and versatility of mind ; desire and resolu¬ 
tion for prosecuting inquiry ; and memory for retain¬ 
ing. His pupils were required firmly to impress and 
appropriate whatsoever they learned, before they 
were permitted to take another step forward. Hence 
they were expected, before rising in the morning, to re¬ 
peat in their minds what they had learned the day pre¬ 
vious, or even at an earlier period; and that even in 
the very words in which it had been communicated. 
At the same time, they were, in various ways, stimu¬ 
lated to farther reflection and independent develop¬ 
ment of thought. The mode of teaching thus adopted 
by this great master is highly instructive to educa¬ 
tors of our own day. Collections of the sayings, the 
maxims, and aphorisms of Pythagoras, are to be re¬ 
ceived with caution, as great liberties have been taken 
with his name. 

Many of his pedagogical principles and rules will 
be found in writings of several of his pupils ; among 
others, of Ocellus of Lucania, and Aristoxenus. Sto- 
baeus gives (Serin. 96) a fragment from the work of 
Teles, concerning human life, which is interesting. 

Among his pupils were also females, who distin¬ 
guished themselves as authors. To his wife, Theano, 
is ascribed a work on Piety, Trepl hae^eiac. Letters 
from her to female friends are extant, which contain 
much that is beautiful and excellent on various human 
relations, especially on education. 

The entire picture of Pythagoras, and his school, is 
one of the most delightful to look upon in the whole 
ancient classic world. 


THE GREEKS. 


55 


4. Solon. The lonians. Athens. 

Solon, a descendant of Codrus, was born at Athens, 
638 A.C., and was one of the wisest and most learn¬ 
ed men of his age. Elected to the archonship of his 
native city, he was called upon to prepare a new code 
of laws, as the severity of the laws of Draco had be¬ 
come intolerable. He drew up a milder code, and in¬ 
troduced, at the same time, a system of education for 
the people. After the Athenians had adopted his 
laws, he absented himself for ten years, and travelled 
to Egypt and Crete, receiving distinguished honours 
wherever he went. 

The immediate results of his new constitution 
were not as favourable to Athens as the effects of the 
legislation of Lycurgus had been, three hundred years 
before, to Sparta. When he returned, he found every¬ 
thing in confusion. The people received him as 
though he had been a god, who would restore perfect 
order in the state. But his sagacious and wily rela¬ 
tive, Pisistratus, succeeded better than he in remedy¬ 
ing the existing evils. Solon died 559 A.C., at the 
age of eighty years. 

Athens, founded 1600 A.C. by Cecrops, did not at¬ 
tain to complete civilization, or acquire a regular mu¬ 
nicipal constitution, until the time of Theseus, about 
1250 A.C. The regal government ceased after the 
noble Codrus had sacrificed himself for his people ; 
and under its aristocratic ^constitution, administered 
by archons, Athens enjoyed almost uninterrupted 
peace, during nearly five centuries. But the want of 
a new constitution being felt, two distinguished legis¬ 
lators appeared: first Draco, 600 A.C. ; soon after 
him, Solon, 594 A.C. The results of Solon’s legis¬ 
lation have been hinted at; for farther information, the 
reader will consult historical works; as also for an 
account of the rise and progress of art and science at 
Athens, which were already beginning to flourish in 
the time of Solon. 

Solon’s legislation comprehended, as we have said, 


56 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


a plan for the education of youth. Here also, in Ath¬ 
ens, the principle was recognised that the child be¬ 
longs to the state, and is to be educated by and for 
the state. But there was not here that unity of pop¬ 
ular life, which we find among the ancient Persians 
and at Sparta; and the multiplicity of forms, in which 
life developed itself at Athens, did not admit of any 
fixed, uniform mode of treatment for the young : hence 
the public education of Athens was by no means as uni¬ 
form, or as one-sided, as that of the Lacedemonians. 
The Athenians were, therefore, the first among whom 
culture was free, and the education of children open 
to experiments and improvement. Free development 
prevailed in all things. The dominion of the priest¬ 
hood, the hitherto sacred authority of ancient institu¬ 
tions, perished ; and superiority of intellect, and of for¬ 
tune, and arbitrary ambition, had unrestricted scope. 
But as men had now reached that point in which this 
stage of development had to be passed through, we 
should do injustice to the wisdom of Solon, if we cen¬ 
sured him for not preventing the evil and disorder, 
which were the inevitable concomitants of this state 
of transition. 

The laws which Solon enacted respecting marriage 
and succession, were promotive of well-regulated do¬ 
mestic life, and of good education. The father was re¬ 
quired to have his son taught some useful occupation; 
and the son was, in turn, obliged to maintain his parents 
in old age, or when incapable of providing for them¬ 
selves. Every Athenian citizen, whether rich or poor, 
was required by law to teach his son at least to read and 
to swim ; and for instruction in these, the public institu¬ 
tions, of course, made provision. But Solon had also 
made it a law, that every man should educate his sons 
in a manner suitable to his rank and property. 

But, passing by these general arrangements, of 
which an outline may be found in every good work on 
general history, we proceed to the particular methods 
of instruction employed in the education of the Athe¬ 
nian youth. 

From early times the Athenians had given their 


THE GREEKS. 


57 


children a twofold education. Their 'KaiMa required 
the culture of the mind, and that of the body in pure 
harmony, hpvdf^ia ; the former was attained chiefly by 
grammatical studies, the latter by gymnastics. The 
latter, in accordance with the spirit of the ancient 
Greeks, took precedence of the former; on this branch 
of education the state bestowed the greatest attention, 
and from it the public place of instruction was called 
Gymnasium. 

The gymnastic training of Athens was very similar 
to that of Sparta. Some of its distinctive peculiari¬ 
ties will be mentioned. One of the most honourable of¬ 
fices in Athens was that of the gymnasiarch, or presi¬ 
dent of the Gymnasium ; he was usually elected for a 
year, and had not only to superintend the gymnasia of 
the city, but to furnish, at his own expense, the oil 
that was used in them. Each of these institutions 
had several teachers and overseers, whose business it 
was to provide for order in all things. These officers 
were the TraLdorptCTig and the yvpvaaT^g. The one unlock¬ 
ed the Gymnasium at sunrise, and locked it at sunset; 
chastised the tardy, prescribed the diet, and, during the 
whole day, watched the boys and young men closely. 
His instrument of chastisement was a slender stick 
{pd66og), which he plied industriously; he was a for¬ 
midable character, like our pedagogues of olden times. 
He conducted the gymnasiasts to their public contests ; 
at the Olympic games they had a separate place as¬ 
signed them. This officer was probably the yvpvaa- 
TTjg^ who farther instructed the adlrjTai. There was an¬ 
other officer, the dleiirTrjg, who anointed the bodies 
of the gymnasiasts with oil, and administered medical 
aid to those who had been hurt. 

The Gymnasium itself was a large open space, sur¬ 
rounded with walls, containing shady spots, and fur¬ 
nished with a building having corridors, so that the 
exercises might continue at all seasons, and in every 
sort of weather. In the Gymnasium was also a partic¬ 
ular place for the contests, called naXaiarpa, which was 
strewed with fine sand. 

The laws concerning the conduct of the gymnasia 


58 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


ran as follows : “ The teacher of the boys shall not open 
the schools before sunrise, and close them before sun¬ 
set ; and no one beyond the age of boyhood shall be 
allowed to enter while the boys are within, except it 
be his brother or son-in-law : if any other person en¬ 
ter, he shall be punished with death. Nor shall the 
gymnasiarchs at the Hermaia (a place in the Palaes- 
trum), on any account, allow any one beyond the age 
of boyhood to enter: if he should, nevertheless, per¬ 
mit others to enter, or fail to prevent them from so 
doing, he shall be subject to punishment, according to 
the laws which relate to the crimes of free citizens.” 
From ail this it appears how sacredly these places 
were guarded against moral pollution. The object 
aimed at was general good culture; the bodily exer¬ 
cises were designed to render the young hardy and 
athletic, that in peace they might be good citizens, 
and in war stalwart defenders of liberty and their na¬ 
tive land. By these exercises each pupil was to gain 
for his body, beauty, evpvd/xia, and stren^h; and there¬ 
fore exertion was interrupted by suitable recreations. 
The gymnastic rules provided for moderation in liv¬ 
ing, self-government, and especially chastity; the 
system aimed at suitably combining moral culture 
with fxovdLKTj, or elegant education. It was the duty of 
every youth to frequent the gymnasia. 

When the boy had left the reading and singing 
school, and was, therefore, about ten or twelve years 
of age, he began the course of the Gymnasium, being 
required to attend daily from sunrise to nearly sun¬ 
set. 

Grammar, or instruction in language. In early 
times the Athenians appear to have had but one ele¬ 
mentary teacher (the ■ypa/j./xariaTnc) for this branch of 
instruction : in later times, another of higher preten¬ 
sions, the ypafifiariKog, or, as he was at first called, the 
KpiTiKoc, was employed. The former taught the al¬ 
phabet, spelling, and writing (ra ypa/ipara) ; with the 
latter, the pupils read the works of the writers of 
Greece, and committed poems to memory, while the 
teacher made explanations, and gave other instruction. 


THE GREEKS. 


59 


The schoolhouse (to SiSaoKaXeiov), a building totally 
different from the Gymnasium, comprised one large 
room, furnished with benches for the boys. The 
teacher probably occupied a chair (Kudedpa). The law 
required all the boys to attend this school, which they 
entered, not before they were seven, according to 
Plato, ten years of age. The course of inkruction 
probably embraced several years. Afterward they 
were sent to the music-master, Kidapiar^g, W'ho taught 
them to sing and to perform on the lyre. This in¬ 
struction must either have been synchronous with 
that of the grammaticus, or the office of the latter 
was altogether of later origin. Some also learned 
the flute from the av’kn’v^’) whose charges were high. 

The pupils of the TzaLdaywyelov were probably not 
taught to write, until they had made some progress in 
reading. In writing, they made use of tablets cover¬ 
ed with wax, and a style : in later times they wrote 
with ink. Much importance was attached to elegance 
and rapidity in writing. 

The higher studies, which succeeded this element¬ 
ary instruction, consisted in the reading of the poets, 
and the memorizing of suitable passages, as has al¬ 
ready been stated. The author most generally read 
Avas Homer, who was so thoroughly studied that 
many Greeks could, even in their old age, repeat 
memoriter the entire Iliad and Odyssee. Besides 
Homer, Hesiod was read, as well as other prose Avri- 
ters, and for this purpose Chrestomathies Avere pre¬ 
pared. Every pupil was required to be acquainted 
with Alsop’s Fables. All this supplied the mind with 
an abundance of beautiful figures, excited in the soul 
admiration and love of Avhatsoever Avas noble, gave 
the thinking faculty an exalted impulse, and produced 
that pure and enthusiastic love of the beautiful, which 
characterizes the Greeks in general, but pre-eminent¬ 
ly the Athenians. 

Every variety of popular instraction, in mythology, 
ethics, and politics, was combined with this course of 
reading, and Avas fruitful, in proportion as the teacher 
performed his duties with intelligence and zeal. It 


60 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


rendered unnecessary any special religious instruc¬ 
tion, which was farther superseded by the observan¬ 
ces of domestic life and the popular festivals. 

5. Socrates. 

Socrates was born 469 A.C. (Olymp. Ixxvii., 3); his 
father, Sophroniscus, belonged to the middle class 
of citizens, and was a skilful sculptor. He passed 
through the Athenian schools in the prescribed order, 
and learned his father’s art, in which he acquired con¬ 
siderable skill. He continued daily to practise gym¬ 
nastic exercises to his old age, and to this custom he 
was indebted for the regular health which he enjoyed. 
The grammatical course he had so thoroughly accom¬ 
plished, that nothing remained for him but to become 
acquainted with every public teacher, who arose at 
his time in Athens; and he so completely assimi¬ 
lated in his own mind the philosophic views of Anax¬ 
agoras, Parmenides, and Zeno of Elea, whose person¬ 
al intercourse he enjoyed at Athens, that his mind, 
stored with intellectual wealth, rapidly developed 
itself. Through Anaxagoras he became acquainted 
with the philosophy of Pythagoras and of Thales, 
and therefore with the Italic and Ionic schools ; made 
himself familiar with their theories respecting the 
universe, and practised himself in the use of their dia¬ 
lectics ; but, as it becomes every independent thinker 
and teacher of philosophy, he connected himself with 
no particular sect. The unity of God, the divine 
omniscience, justice, and foresight; the dignity and 
immortality of the soul—these exalted truths were 
firmly fixed in the living conviction of his mind. But 
the mind of Socrates was thoroughly practical, and 
lie seemed born to advance the culture of man. The 
idle speculations, and especially the arrogant vanity 
of the so-called sophists, which he perfectly saw 
through, and which seemed, at that time, to have 
reached their pinnacle in Gorgias, were utterly dis¬ 
gusting to him. All this convinced him of his duty 
to instruct; not, however, in a school of his own, but 
in the midst of his fellow-citizens, in order to over- 


THE GREEKS. 


61 


throw the false wisdom of the sophists, to show men 
what they ought to be, and to save his native city 
from the increasing corruption. And in all this he 
exerted himself to the utmost of his ability. 

As, at his time, the splendour and the culture of 
Athens were at their height, after the Persian war, 
and as he witnessed, also, the excitement of the 
Peloponnesian war, which brought the heaviest ca¬ 
lamities upon Athens, no man could easily have bet¬ 
ter opportunities of enriching himself with valuable 
experiences of life, than had this wise and good man, 
in whose life and character are exemplified all the 
virtues that we can conceive attainable among a 
pagan people. He was the friend of the great states¬ 
man Pericles ; of the tragic poet Euripides ; and, in 
a measure also, of the comic poet Aristophanes. He 
became personally acquainted with the artists and 
men of talent of his native city, and the distinguished 
strangers who visited it; and the circle of his studies 
daily extended its compass, in the most intellectual 
intercourse with men. 

We have said that it was his desire and aim to ar¬ 
rest the growing corruption of Athens : a difficult 
undertaking, which demanded the interference of one 
greater than Socrates, and something better than hu¬ 
man wisdom. Yet he made the attempt; and while 
we admire the wisdom which he displayed, we can¬ 
not blame him for not succeeding better than he did. 

Initiation in the Eleusinian mysteries, in which, 
probably, a sort of Deism was taught, was at that time 
so common at Athens, that no one any longer serious¬ 
ly believed in the gods. Socrates sought to infuse 
into what was left of external religious institutions 
and rites, more of a pious and moral spirit. The ac¬ 
cusation of revolutionary designs, of a desire to over¬ 
throw existing institutions, could proceed only from a 
total misapprehension of the character and the prin¬ 
ciples of Socrates. 

His peculiar method of teaching presents itself un¬ 
der a twofold aspect. In the first place, it was, un¬ 
doubtedly, antagonistic, subversive, or polemical in 

F 


62 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


its tendency. But in this tendency it was directed 
against the absurdities, the self-conceit, and the self¬ 
ish policy of the sophists, whom he completely un¬ 
masked, by treating them with that happy irony, 
which is from him called the Socratic. 

The positive direction of his pedagogic philosophy 
induced him to select his pupils, but to avoid estab¬ 
lishing a school or sect of his own. Athens was not, 
at that time, the place for a Pythagoroean consocia¬ 
tion ; yet, in so far, the ancient customs still prevail¬ 
ed, that pupils congregated about their teacher, to 
learn from him both in doctrine and practice. Such 
followers were his three most distinguished pupils, 
Xenophon, Plato, and Alschines, all of whom wrote 
concerning him, and in the spirit which they had im¬ 
bibed in their intimate intercourse with him. A com¬ 
pensation Socrates accepted from none of his pupils, 
although such as were rich, for example Crito, cheer¬ 
fully offered him all they had. He would not even 
accept presents from them ; and when Aeschines gave 
himself to him, he said, “ Very well; but I shall spare 
no pains to return you to yourself, better than I have 
received you.” 

He had few wants, and self-government {au^poGvvrj) 
was not, with him, a mere doctrine ; he rigidly prac¬ 
tised it in all things ; and his humane and benevolent 
disposition, which manifested itself in all his relations 
of life, endued him with a certain grace, for which, 
known as the Socratic Xdpic in his conversational in¬ 
tercourse, he was noted to his old age. Notwith¬ 
standing all his distinguished excellences of charac¬ 
ter, he was arraigned of crimes of which none could 
be more innocent than he, and condemned to die by 
poison. His noble defence, his last conversations with 
his friends, the calmness and greatness of soul which 
he manifested in his last hour, are familiar to every 
reader of history. He died 399 A.C., in the seven¬ 
tieth year of his age. 

This great educator’s history in this city presents, 
in itself, a picture of the manners of that age: and 
when, in addition, we consider that his own sons turn- 


THE GREEKS. 


63 


ed out badly, we have strong evidence of the growing 
degeneracy of the youth of that day. Of what avail 
was it, that he taught, and illustrated by example, that 
self-government, which was, in the education of the 
ancients, the paramount object aimed atl The good 
seed which he scattered was choked by the rank 
growth of the corruption of morals. The two most 
eminent disciples of Socrates, Xenophon and Plato, 
did indeed diffuse abroad the most valuable doctrines 
and precepts ; but neither they, nor the entire school 
of the so-called Socratics, effected a reformation in 
Athens. But of so much the greater importance is 
the relation sustained by these two distinguished 
men to the pedagogics of modern times, so that they 
belong, pre-eminently, to the present historic sketch. 
With Xenophon we became acquainted in connexion 
with Persian education; and it remains for us, there¬ 
fore, to communicate the pedagogic views of Plato. 

For a picture of Athenian education of his day, we 
refer to his Protagoras. 

Lucian also exhibits, in his Nigrinus, characteris¬ 
tic features of Athenian education, which belong, 
however, to a later period. Nigrinus was wont to 
exhort his pupils to that practical virtue, which was 
contradistinguished from that asceticism, which then 
prevailed in the philosophic schools, and he directed 
the attention of educators to the individual tempera¬ 
ment and capacities of their pupils. Thus some no¬ 
ble plants yet remained in that city, through which, 
even when its constitution and good morals passed 
away, it handed down to posterity the seeds of genu¬ 
ine culture. The doctrines of Socrates, Plato, and 
Aristotle were sustained, in some measure, by some 
good qualities which the Athenians had inherited from 
their ancestors. Such were their love of country, 
their political enthusiasm, the honourable distinction 
enjoyed by truly noble citizens; also, the daily obser¬ 
vation of the beautiful in the statues of the gods, and 
the like ; the national songs, the works of their great 
poets; in short, the influence of the fine arts and the 
sciences. Everywhere something would strike the 


64 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


eye or ear of the youth, which held up to him the 
most glorious ideals, and tended to excite in his breast 
enthusiasm for the freedom of his native land. Thus, 
in Athens also, domestic and public education could 
readily combine to educate the son, through the fam¬ 
ily, for the state, and through the state for the family, 
and that without prejudice to genuine human culture. 
What a glorious work of education might the idea of 
Solon have effected! But there were not sufficient 
safeguards against the corruption of morals. The 
good habits of early times were put to flight by the 
evil ones of later days. Formerly there had been ri¬ 
gid discipline and a severe mode of life; the boy wore 
light clothing, even in rough weather, and received 
simple and spare diet; and the youth also retained 
his modest deportment: with downcast eyes, and 
without ever crossing his legs, he sat in the presence 
of his elders, before whom he was not allowed to 
speak. But it was widely different at the time when 
a Socrates was compelled to drink the poisoned cup, 
and the lamentation of a Plato over the corruptions 
of education were indeed heard with approbation, 
but died away without effecting a change. At that 
period children were indulged and spoiled in every 
possible way: witness the dainties which little boys 
received to reward them for writing handsomely, 
while their punishment consisted in the withholding 
of such gratifications. Wine was given to them, 
which the parents justified by saying that Achilles 
had drunk wine when a boy ; they had shoes, and gay 
dresses, and warm beds, in which they were allowed 
to sleep as long as they pleased. The young men 
were particularly encouraged to acquire a pleasing 
exterior, a polished deportment in company : in short, 
the same state of things prevailed, which character¬ 
izes fashionable society in modern cities. Thus the 
young men, beardless as they were, and more of boys 
than men, obtruded themselves into the circles of 
adults, had much to say on all subjects, carried about 
theatrical news, visited the ladies, and even the haipai, 
and indulged in ridicule at the expense of good and 


THE GREEKS. 


65 


honest citizens. They sometimes endeavoured to en¬ 
tertain company with performances on the flute or 
harp (Kidapa) 

They patronised the new style of music, whose ob¬ 
ject was entertainment, and were always ready to re¬ 
tail the latest arguments in favour of it, and against 
the ancient grave and solemn musical style. Even in 
their carriage and gestures, they betrayed their intol¬ 
erable presumption and pride. They became addict¬ 
ed to every sort of dissipation, and even boys gave 
themselves up to drunkenness. The most exemplary 
citizens were unable to save their sons from the prev¬ 
alent corruption; for the sons of such men as The- 
mistocles, Aristides, Pericles, Thucydides, and even 
Socrates, turned out badly. Yet, notwithstanding all 
this, the coryphaeus of that corrupt youth, Alcibiades, 
exhibited the invincible vitality of Athenian energy, 
and the almost indestructible proclivity to KaloK^yadia. 

'Aristophanes, one of the closest observers of that 
age, presents to us, in his Clouds (960, sqq.), a scene, 
in which the good old time of Athens, and the cor¬ 
rupt age in which he lived, appear as persons speak¬ 
ing : and the pedagogic picture which he draws, not 
only affords us a view of what was then the state of 
things in Athens, but exhibits strikingly many fea¬ 
tures, in which our own age may discover a strong 
resemblance to itself. The two styles of education 
are represented as presenting their rival claims to the 
youth, and respectively contending for their favour. 
The following is the address of the ancient discipline, 
as translated by Mitchell. 

“ Thus summoned, I prepare myself to speak 
Of manners primitive, and that good time 
Which I have seen, when discipline prevailed. 

And modesty was sanctioned by the laws; 

No babbling then was suffered in our schools: 

The scholar’s test was silence. The whole group 

In orderly procession sallied forth 

Right onward, without straggling, to attend 

Their teacher in harmonics ; though the snow 

Fell on them thick as meal, the hardy brood 

Breasted the storm uncloak’d; their harps were strung, 

F 2 


66 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


Not to ignoble strains, for they were taught 
A loftier key, whether to chant the name 
Of Pallas, terrible amid the blaze 
Of cities overthrown, or wide and far 
To spread, as custom was, the echoing peal: 
There let no low buffoon intrude his tricks, 

Let no capricious quavering on a note, 

No running of divisions high and low. 

Break the pure stream of harmony; no Phrynis 
Practising wanton warblings out of place— 

Wo to his back that so was found offending ! 
Decent and chaste their postures in the school 
Of their gymnastic exercises ; none 
Exposed an attitude that might provoke 
Irregular desire; their hps ne’er moved 
In love-aspiring whispers, and their walks 
From eyes obscene were sacred and secure ; 
Hot herbs, the old man’s diet, were proscribed; 
No radish, anise, parsley, decked their board; 
No rioting nor revelling was there ; 

At feast or frolic, no unseemly touch 
Or signal, that inspires the hint impure.” 


The more recent style having- here objected that 
this was “ oldfashioned stuff,” the ancient discipline 
proceeds: 


“ Yet so were trained the heroes that imbrued 
The field of Marathon with hostile blood ; 

This discipline it was that braced their nerves. 
And fitted them for conquest. You, forsooth. 
At great Minerva’s festival produce 
Your martial dances, not as they were wont. 
But smothered underneath the tawdiy load 
Of cumbrous armour, till I sweat to see them 
Dangling their shields in such unseemly sort 
As mars the sacred measure of the dance. 

Be wise, therefore, young man, and turn to me; 
Turn to the better guide ; so shall you learn 
To scorn the iwisy forum, shun the bath. 

And turn with blushes from the scene impure. 
Then conscious innocence shall make you bold 
To spurn the injurious, but to reverend age 
Meek and submissive, rising from your seat 
To pay the homage due: nor shall you ever 
Wring the parent’s soul, or stain your own. 

In purity of manners you shall live 
A bright example ; vain shall be the lures 
Of the stage-wanton, floating in the dance ; 

Vain all her arts to snare you in her arms, 


THE GREEKS. 


67 


And strip yon of your virtue and good name. 

No petulant reply shall you oppose 
To fatherly commands, nor taunting vent 
Irreverent mockery on his hoary head, 

Crying, ‘ Behold lapetus himself!’ 

Poor thanks for all his fond parental care.” 

The recent style having again replied in self-praise, 
the other once more proceeds: 

“ Not so, but fair and fresh in youthful bloom 
Among our young athletics you shall shine; 

Not in the forum loitering time away 
In gossip prattle, like our gang of idlers, 

Nor yet in some vexatious, paltry suit, 

Wrangling and quibbling in our petty courts. 

But in the solemn academic grove. 

Crowned with the modest re^, fit converse hold 
With your collegiate equals ; there serene, 

Calm as the scene around you, underneath 
The fragrant foliage where the ilex spreads. 

Where the deciduous poplar strews her leaves. 

Where the tall elm-tree and wide-spreading plane 
Sigh to the fanning breeze, you shall inhale 
Sweet odours wafted in the breath of Spring. 

This is the regimen that will ensure 
A healthful b<^y and a vigorous mind, 

A countenance serene, expanded chest. 

Heroic stature, and a temperate tongue. 

B ut take these modern masters, and behold 
These blessings all reversed ; a pallid cheek. 

Shrunk shoulders, chest contracted, sapless limbs, 

A tongue that never rests, and mind debased 
By their vile sophistiy, perversely taught 
To call good evil, evil good, and be 
That thing which nature spurns at—that disease, 

A mere Antimachus, a sink of vice.” 

6. Plato. 

This illustrious sage, descended from Codrus and 
Solon, was born at Athens on the 17th of May, 429 
A.C. In his early boyhood, his extraordinary talents 
manifested themselves in various ways, and the pro¬ 
ductions of his youth betokened the future genius. 
When not far from twenty years of age, his education 
was intrusted to Socrates. Under the instruction and 
guidance of this true philosopher, his mind received 
that mighty impulse which carried him into the high- 


68 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


est regions of thought, and made him the prince of 
philosophers. In his mature age he travelled, and 
even tried himself at state-affairs; but he found his 
most congenial employment in study, and in commu¬ 
nicating instruction to others. His personal instruc¬ 
tion gave the world a number of excellent men, and 
his writings have an undying value to the culture of 
man. His life was pure and truly noble, healthy in 
body and soul, and thus he died in a green old age of 
eighty-one years, 347 A.C. 

He has written much on education, and our present 
business is to exhibit briefly his educational idea, or 
his leading thoughts on this important subject, detach¬ 
ing them from the connexion in which they are found, 
as our limited space forbids our making long extracts 
from his writings. 

His more important ideas are the following: 

It is education that makes the man: it belongs to 
the whole of life. In it are combined cultivating care, 
and intellectually and physically cultivating discipline, 
Tpo<py Kal 'jraiSeia. 

Education must commence previous to the birth of 
the child, in the parents themselves : it must supply 
right habits for the whole life, and, in a certain sense, 
continue to the end of life. 

A city can become a state (koIic) only by taking 
good heed of culture and education. It will then de¬ 
velop itself from within, and internally, like a circle, 
extending its circumference. For by good education, 
internal and external (rpo^^ nal iraidevaic), excellent 
characters are produced, and by means of it these 
constantly become more excellent than their prede¬ 
cessors, and can therefore produce others of still 
greater excellence. 

That training which teaches how to make money, 
or aims at the development of physical strength, or 
at communicating skill in any mechanical business 
or common art,* without intellectual culture and a 
sense of right, does not deserve the name of educa- 

* Bdvavao^ kcu dvtkevdtpo^. 


THE GREEKS. 


69 


tion. A man may thus be brought up to navigation 
or to the wine-trade, and yet have no true education. 
Only those who are educated {i. e.,by the proper Tpo<f)7} 
and -rraiSeia) become good; discipline alone can make 
an excellent man. Education awakens the desire of 
becoming a good citizen, one who accustoms himself 
both to obey and to rule from right principles ; it 
forms truly noble characters, and impels them to con¬ 
tinue in the pursuit of such perfections as they are 
still destitute of; it is the first thing among all that 
are best, and must on no account be neglected. 

Good and evil exist together in the soul. If the lat¬ 
ter gain the preponderance from defective education, 
or the absence of good example, man sinks beneath 
himself, degenerates; education, on the other hand, 
elevates him above himself. 

Education is but badly cared for in that state, in 
which those who have been educated still require 
great judges and physicians. The excellence of a 
well-educated man consists in his clear apprehension 
of the good. 

Everything depends on the formation of good hab¬ 
its, and in this, example, familiar intercourse, scientific 
and practical culture must co-operate; good morals 
attained by good customs, Trdv edog, did edog. 

The welfare of a commonwealth consists in this, 
that wisdom, manliness, self-government, and justice 
prevail therein. For the magistrates of a state which 
is what it ought to be, the most excellent persons 
should be selected in childhood, and educated with 
the utmost care. 

There are marks by which we may discover for 
what future calling children are fit. For example 
one who at no period of life gives himself up to infat¬ 
uation, or suffers himself to be diverted from his prin¬ 
ciples, is fit to administer the laws. Let, therefore, 
something be given to the boy to do, in executing 
which he may be tempted to forget his principles; 
and if he nevertheless continue mindful of them, and 
cannot be induced to become recreant to them, let 
him be chosen. But he should be tried also by difficul- 


70 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


ties, pain, conflict, and excitants; in the same manner 
as colts are taken to places where a loud noise is made, 
in order to ascertain whether they be skittish. But 
let him, who shall be fit for the office of a magistrate, 
be tested also in the different sciences, that it may be 
discovered whether he possess energy enough for what 
is most difficult. 

The mark of the future philosopher is an aversion 
to all untruth, and the most ardent love of truth and 
desire to learn, manifested from childhood upward. 
His soul must also pre-eminently possess the gift of 
recollection (of that which was divine in its former 
life), and must have a native talent in all things to 
perceive the idea; he must understand what man is 
designed to be and to become, to discern his charac¬ 
ter, and thus, by instructing and exercising him in the 
sciences, to lead him to the divine. The inclina¬ 
tions of children may also be ascertained from their 
amusements, for in the plays and the serious pursuits 
of the boy, we behold the future man: for example, 
the husbandman, if the boy is fond of digging in the 
earth ; the architect, if he amuses himself with build¬ 
ing houses. 

Some men possess natural advantages; although 
all are formed of one clay, some have an admixture 
of nobler metal. 

The first three years of life are the most impor¬ 
tant in education. Hence it is necessary to exercise 
special vigilance respecting their first impressions, 
and at that age already to accustom children not to 
give themselves up to pleasure, nor succumb to pain ; 
at that period, already, not to grant them everything, 
for this makes them impetuous and domineering. But 
be not too harsh and severe with them, as this would 
make them timid and slavish: they should be care¬ 
fully protected against fear and alarm. By indul¬ 
gence, they become peevish and irascible. The 
nurses should carry them about in the fields, in the 
temples, and among their kindred. They should 
handle them cautiously when they are not yet able to 
stand, guard against every injurious pressure on their 


THE GREEKS. 


71 


limbs, and carry them about until they are about three 
years old. When the child is to be put to sleep, the 
mother should carry it on her arms, rocking it gently, 
and singing ; and thus, by the motion of dancing and 
music, rock it to sleep; for outward motion subdues 
that which is within. 

This mode of treatment should be continued after 
the third year, until the child is six years of age: i. e., 
it must neither be indulged, nor treated with undue 
severity. By inflicting on the child punishments that 
are debasing, or excite ridicule, you can only exas¬ 
perate it. At this age they may also be taken by the 
nurse to the national festivals ; but she must provide 
that their appearance be clean, and otherwise decent. 

The young should receive no wine before the 
eighteenth year, for fire must not be poured upon fire. 

The age of adolescence also calls for the most 
vigilant care of education. 

The amusements and games of children may be 
improved for directing their inclinations to em¬ 
ployments in which they may hereafter excel; but 
they should be accustomed to such plays only as are 
becoming. Let them not have too great a variety of 
plays, as this makes them inconstant and discon¬ 
tented, so that they are always wishing for some¬ 
thing new. 

Children should, from infancy, not hear anything 
but what is calculated to make them regard as sacred 
the worship of the gods, reverence towards parents, 
and friendship. When passages of Homer, which 
contain anything immoral, are read to them, it should 
be done with expressions of disapproval. The poets 
should never represent the wicked as happy, or the 
good as unhappy; and artists should represent only 
what is beautiful. In general, the desire of imitation 
should be directed only to what is calculated to make 
children manly {dvdpelo^), virtuous, and truly free. 

All instruction should be treated in a dignified man¬ 
ner, worthy of the great end aimed at; it must ac¬ 
complish the culture both of the body and of the 
mind, so that both may be cultivated for what is most 


72 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


beautiful and excellent. It must, therefore, from the 
earliest age, secure a healthy development to the 
body. 

We have, therefore, two generic divisions of the 
subjects of instruction, the physical and the mental. 
The former are comprehended under gymnastics, the 
latter under music.* 

Gymnastics is again divided into two branches : the 
one for skill in combats, the other in dancing. The 
former is designed to exercise the neck, the limbs, 
the hips, with a view to noble carriage, to strength, 
and health; the latter is to give grace, agility, and 
beauty; so that in the whole body, and in all the mo¬ 
tions of the several members, a certain kvpvdfxia (har¬ 
mony) may be expressed. Pure gymnastics ought 
to render warlike, and should be practised throughout 
the whole life. 

Children should be accustomed, like the Scythians, 
to use the left hand with the same skill as the right. 
Boys ought to become strong in the feet as well as 
the hands. 

Music is intended to bring the soul into a healthy 
state ; only such varieties of music ought, therefore, 
to be selected, as are adapted to effect this object. 

Musical culture comprises the arts and sciences, 
and its ultimate aim is love to the beautiful and good: 
hence philosophy is the highest music and the high¬ 
est manifestation of culture, for it is the love of sci¬ 
ence and wisdom : it contemplates divine things, ex¬ 
alts to true liberty, and gives to action also a divine 
character. 

Those who would communicate musical culture 
must first possess it themselves, for they must be 
able to discern what is greatness, and what is virtue. 

The best gymnastics is the sister of pure and sim¬ 
ple music. As the former gives health to the body, 
and the latter self-government to the soul, both co- 

* Among the Greeks, music, fj (lovaiKr) (scil. tIxv?;), meant the liberal 
arts, comprehending not only music, poetry, and eloquence, but designa¬ 
ting, in general, the proper and harmonious development of the mind and 
character. 


THE GREEKS. 


73 


operate in producing complete culture. Those who 
practise gymnastics alone become too wild; those 
w'ho cultivate music alone become too feeble or ef¬ 
feminate {jialaKcjTEpo^). One God has given both to 
man, in order that body and soul may duly harmonize, 
both by necessary exertion, as well as the not less 
needful relaxation ; for he who combines these two 
in his soul in the most correct proportion, may justly 
be regarded as the most musical and harmonious man 
(fiovaiKUTarov Kot evappoaraTov), much more SO than he 
who understands tuning the strings. 

But the knowledge of language, as well as of other 
subjects, is also necessary to complete culture. Here 
let the following course be pursued. Let the boy be 
first exercised in gymnastics. When ten years of 
age he should learn the alphabet; then reading and 
writing, and spend three years in this manner: wheth¬ 
er he learn to read and write rapidly or elegantly is 
not, as yet, important. At thirteen years of age the 
boy will proceed to instruction in music, learning, for 
the present, the KiOdpa (guitar) in a very simple man¬ 
ner, in order to accompany his song in the same tones 
and measure ; for variety only confuses and renders 
learning difficult; but the young ought to learn in the 
easiest possible manner. At the same time, the boy 
must learn passages from the poets, which ought to 
be well selected, omitting what is offensive; and 
these, written partly with, partly without metre, 
should be committed to memory, including passages 
from different poets, and of a variety of metres : also, 
passages from prose writers. 

The boys are also to learn the use of numbers ; first, 
calculation (loyiafidg), which, being the doctrine of 
proportions, considers and compares what is equal, 
and what is unequal. This should be made pleasant 
and easy by distributing among them apples, wreaths, 
and the like. The second part of the science of num¬ 
bers is arithmetic. 

A principal means of culture is geometry, which 
teaches the measurement of space, i. e., distances, 
planes, and solid bodies. For the soldier and the 

G 


74 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


statesman, this science is important; for the philoso¬ 
pher it is necessary, for it leads upward to truth. 

The preliminary exercises are followed by dialec¬ 
tics : economy, astronomy, &c. 

While the pupil is engaged with these severer sci¬ 
ences, he must be left unencumbered with business. 
When he has attained the age of twenty, and has 
learned well, he should, for the second time, be in¬ 
ducted into these sciences, and deeper than was prac¬ 
ticable in his boyhood : thus only is permanent knowl¬ 
edge acquired, and only at this age can real dialectic 
talent be discovered with certainty. 

Every subject of liberal learning must be studied 
with a liberal spirit, not in a slavish manner: not by 
compulsory methods should boys be instructed in the 
sciences, but in such a manner that they may take 
delight in them, as though they were playing. It is 
thus only that we can discover for what each one has 
been destined by nature. Do the same as when you 
wish to excite fondness for martial exercises in boys, 
by taking them to see soldiers with their horses. 

In general, the young should be acted upon by the 
beautiful and the good, which should, like the pure 
air of healthy places, everywhere strike the ear and 
the eye, and incline them to whatsoever is beautiful 
and good. Youth should reverence old age, especially 
when it is dignified. The young must learn to obey; 
for he that cannot obey, cannot rule. 

By means of example and strictly-enforced law, 
the young should be imbued with modesty or a sense 
of shame {alaxvvri), and an aversion to everything un¬ 
chaste (acppodiaLa). This will have a happy effect, as 
well on pious minds, as on those that are honourable, 
or those that strive after beauty of soul. If the ath- 
letae can cultivate chastity for the sake of the desired 
victory, why should not the youth for the sake of the 
nobler victory 1 

Everything should combine to form man, from 
his youth, to excellence of character 4 for even as 
the plant is then most certain to reach perfection, 
if its first developments are beautiful, so man has 


THE GREEKS. 


75 


indeed his natural destination as an (tame) animal 
(Cwov) ; yet does he most need education, for without 
it he becomes the wildest animal; but through it he 
attains his highest destination, and becomes the ta¬ 
mest {i. e., most cultivated), yea, the most divine 
among all creatures. The first good a child can re¬ 
ceive is discipline and culture. 

Man is to be cultivated for perfection, both as man 
and as citizen. 

From a vast deal contained in Plato’s writings on 
education, we have thus presented a free translation 
of those passages which are most interesting and im¬ 
portant in our own day, while, at the same time, they 
afford a tolerably comprehensive view of the great 
pedagogic idea, by realizing which this illustrious 
sage sought to improve his race. 

7. Aristotle, and the later Period of the Greeks. 

Aristotle was the most learned scholar among the 
Greeks, yet, at the same time, second to none of 
their distinguished sages as regards brilliancy of 
genius, and philosophic depth, and acumen. In him 
the ancient Grecian culture reached its summit, so 
that in him we already discover its later tendencies, 
manifested in systematizing scholarship, and estab¬ 
lishing the later age of the sciences. Thus he be¬ 
came the first systematic teacher, and the great mas¬ 
ter in dialectics. 

He wrote systematic treatises not only on govern¬ 
ment and ethics, but on pedagogics, and he may be 
regarded as the first scientific instructer of youth. 

He was born at Stagyra, in Thrace, 384 A.C., and 
inherited considerable wealth from his father Nicom- 
achus, who was physician to Amyntas, king of 
Macedonia. An ardent love of the sciences, extra¬ 
ordinary talents, combined with indefatigable indus¬ 
try, distinguished him, at least in the later years of 
his youth. He paid great attention to his outward 
appearance, by cultivating neatness and elegance of 
dress. When nearly eighteen years of age he went 
to Athens in order to study, and became the pupil of 


76 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


Plato, who was wont to call him “the Mind of his 
school.” With him he remained five years, when he 
left Athens and went to Mysia. Philip of Macedon 
invited him, in the most fiattering terms, to become 
the educator of his son Alexander, who is certainly 
indebted to his distinguished teacher, for any claim 
which he may really have to the title of “ the Great.” 
His royal pupil manifested his gratitude towards him, 
and his sense of his high merits, by enabling him, in 
various ways, to prosecute at leisure, and in the en¬ 
joyment of the most ample resources, his studies, 
especially in natural history. After Alexander’s ac¬ 
cession to the throne, Aristotle established himself as 
a public teacher in Athens ; but, meeting with perse¬ 
cutions there, he removed to Chalcis, in Euboea, 
where he died 320 A.C., at the age of sixty-two 
years, having probably destroyed his health by ex¬ 
cessive application to study. 

Aristotle brings the science of government, ethics, 
and the whole of pedagogics, into the closest con¬ 
nexion, and thus exhibits in this, also, the prominent 
characteristic of antiquity, unity of life. We present 
a few of his pedagogic principles in a detached form. 
According to him, the prerogative of man consists in 
this, that he is able to discern and apprehend some¬ 
thing that is higher and better than himself. 

Whatever he may become is etfected by the com¬ 
bined influence of nature, habit, and instruction. The 
last two elements together constitute education; and 
these must always be conjoined, yet so that habit ex¬ 
erts its influence first. Instruction has an internal 
design, for it does not become noble and liberal 
minds to inquire after the uses of that which is 
learned. Education is to prepare the soul for the pre¬ 
cepts of morality, just as the soil is prepared for the 
reception of the seed. Not until the mind has been 
ennobled, and acquired a proclivity to what is good 
(r/doc ivysvec <j)iXoKa2,ov), can instruction in morals be 
communicated with profit; and only when good hab¬ 
its have been acquired, can principles exert an ele¬ 
vating or ennobling influence. Through the heart the 
understanding also is to be cultivated. 


THE GREEKS. 


77 


Good (correct, judicious) education {bpd?] iraidda)* 
consists in habituating man, from youth upward, to 
rejoice or to grieve as reason may require; and in 
general in this, that the inferior elements of the soul 
be absolutely governed by its higher principle, rea¬ 
son. A healthy and cultivated (rational) soul in a 
healthy and well-disciplined body. 

He that would govern must first have learned to be 
governed. The education of youth is a principal con¬ 
cern of the state; and with a view to it, the state is 
bound to establish public institutions. 

It is wrong to expose children, except such as are 
born deformed. 

The screaming of children promotes their health. 

Weeping is a beneficial exercise for children. 

Stays (or corsets) {opyava prixavim) should never be 
used. 

Warlike nations give their children abundance of 
milk. Wine must not be given to children, for it ag¬ 
gravates their diseases. 

Children must be guarded against all bad examples 
and impressions; they should, therefore, not be al¬ 
lowed to keep company with slaves : their governor 
should be carefully selected. Boys ought not to be 
taken to convivial feasts. 

In the first five years of life, the children play, and 
thus exercise themselves in activity, until they are ad¬ 
vanced to their first efforts at learning. Their plays^ 
or amusements, should be the type of their future oc¬ 
cupation. 

The first stage of youth ends with the seventh year, 
the second with the twenty-first. All culture must 
closely conform to the course of nature. 

From the sixth year, boys may be gradually induct¬ 
ed into the process of instruction. 

Physical education is first in order of time, because 
the body exists before the soul; next follows the cul¬ 
tivation of the appetites or desires (n/f bpi^eug ); and 
lastly, scientific culture. Yet for the sake of ne¬ 
cessary recreation, alternation should be practised* 
There are, in fact, only three principal branches of in- 

G 3 


78 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION 


• struction; to wit, gymnastics, music, and grammar 
(the study of language); to these a fourth may be 
added, namely, the gi’aphic art, or the art of drawing; 
for this also serves to employ the free in their leisure 
(Aiaywy^ Tuv eXevOeptJv kv oxoT^y) ; but it is Otherwise 
useful in various ways: for example, it trains the 
mind to judge correctly of works of art. Education 
is an ornament in prosperity, an unfailing resource 
in adversity. 

As the eye receives light through the circumambi¬ 
ent air, so the soul receives it through instruction. 

Rapid progress will be made by the pupil, if he 
strenuously emulates those who are in advance of 
him, and does not wait for those who are behind 
him. 

Bitter is the root of education (Trat^cm), but sweet 
its fruit. 

After he had educated Alexander, Aristotle became 
the instructer of young men. He was thus experi¬ 
enced in all the branches of practical education. Yet 
his mind inclined to the scientific mode of instruction, 
and more particularly in its acroamatic form: so 
that, in this respect also, Aristotle has shown the 
lead in the modern methods of study. 

In the forenoons he was wont to deliver lectures, on 
the sciences which he cultivated, to a number of 
friends : he lectured on ethics, politics, or the science 
of government; also on rhetoric, accompanied with 
exercises, especially in the afternoons, which he 
generally devoted to practical subjects. 

The Athenians had granted him the use of the Ly¬ 
ceum for his educational purposes. A number of 
distinguished men proceeded from his school. Al¬ 
though he adhered to the ancient custom of distin¬ 
guishing between exoteric and esoteric pupils, we de¬ 
cidedly discover, in his scientific institutions and la¬ 
bours, and in his educational operations, the begin¬ 
nings of modern culture. 

The Grecian education of youth, as regards scholas¬ 
tic instruction, had, especially at Athens, attained its 


THE GREEKS. 


79 


full development in the time of Aristotle. We shall 
here present a cursory view of the course which pre¬ 
vailed at that period. 

The custom of the rich to provide private instruc¬ 
tion for their sons, which had become general already 
in Plato’s day, w^as alone sufficient to procure for the 
cultivated class a distinct series of studies, Avliile the 
common people scarcely retained those which have 
been specified above, at the proper place. Yet the 
public schools were not altogether destitute of such 
higher instruction, as it was sometimes communica¬ 
ted by the grammaticus. But it was now that separ¬ 
ate branches of study were definitely distinguished ; 
these were the following: arithmetic, geometry, the 
art of design or drawing; also geography, history, 
rhetoric, and philosophy. 

It would lead us too far to give a detailed account 
of the mode of instruction pursued in these different 
branches. 

In learning arithmetic, the boys were made to dis¬ 
tribute apples among themselves, or exchange places, 
or transpose letters, attempting the possible combina¬ 
tions, first with three, and then with four, &c. The 
units were designated by certain letters, the tens 
either by accented or compound letters. 

In teaching geometry, the figures were drawn on a 
board or in the sand, and, according to the ancient 
method, the pupil was probably left, in a great meas¬ 
ure, to independent thought, being required to seek 
and to find for himself. 

Instruction in the art of design {ypa^LKri) was pretty 
general in the time of Plato ; and Aristotle insists on 
its being practised, in order to cultivate the sense of 
the beautiful and the artistic judgrnent. 

Geography was taught in connexion with geometry. 
Thales had already made use of geographic tablets 
(mvaKeg), on which countries appear to have been 
marked with great accuracy. Of course, the geo¬ 
graphical knowledge of the Greeks was limited and 
defective. Anaximander (about 570 A.C.) is said to 
have first described the circumference {TvspifieTpo^) of 


80 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


the earth and sea, to have declared the earth to be 
spheroidal {a^acpocLd^g) and the central point of the 
world, and to have constructed a terrestrial globe. 

The following sciences were studied by adults : 

1. Rhetoric. This was indispensable to the culture 
of the statesman {nohrLKo^). With this study many 
other subjects were brought into connexion, especial¬ 
ly history, in order at once to furnish to political elo¬ 
quence its necessary materials. Practical exercises 
were instituted in a certain progressive gradation. 
Even mnemonics was taught in connexion with rheto¬ 
ric. The course of instruction usually embraced a se¬ 
ries of years. Gorgias of Leontium, in Sicily, is said to 
have established the first school of rhetoric at Athens, 
494 A.C. Other distinguished names are Isocrates, 
the pupil of Socrates and teacher of Demosthenes; 
Aeschines, the founder of a school of rhetoric in 
Rhodes, which became highly celebrated, and, as it 
were, the university for the Roman orators. 

2. Politics, or the science of government, which 
was first taught by Aristotle in connexion with rhet¬ 
oric. Much information respecting statistics, politi¬ 
cal economy, and financial matters in general, was in¬ 
troduced. 

3. Philosophy, as taught by Pherecydes of Syros, 
Thales of Miletus, Pythagoras, and others, had re¬ 
ceived, through Plato, Aristotle, and other great phi¬ 
losophers, a form, as regards the method of instruc¬ 
tion, widely different from that of those earlier teach¬ 
ers. The distinction between esoteric and exoteric 
disciples disappeared more and more. In philosophy, 
ajso, Athens continued to be the metropolis of the in¬ 
tellectual world. It was here that great numbers of 
teachers congregated, who, under the name of soph¬ 
ists, degraded the sacredness of truth by the dialectic 
arts, and the rapacious avarice with which they ev¬ 
erywhere hawked about their intellectual ware ; while 
opposed to them stood, as we have seen above, Soc¬ 
rates, as the free and noble teacher of men. 

The ancient usage, according to which the pupil 
devoted himself, for a long period of time, to one and 


THE GREEKS. 


81 


the same teacher, as did Plato, and Aristotle, and Epi¬ 
curus, to their respective instructors, was superse¬ 
ded by a new order of things ; the pupil attending the 
instruction of several teachers, so that now disciples 
became hearers. 

There gradually arose, furthermore, out of the 
former, more comprehensive instruction, a number of 
distinct branches: for example, from the study of 
language proceeded that of the poetic art. Aristotle, 
by his inventive genius in science, laid the founda¬ 
tion for this transition to the methods of modern 
times. For example, he originated the distinction of 
fiadefiarcK^ and <pvoLKr ]: under the former he adopted 
the following subdivisions: 1. arithmetic, geometry, 
stereometry; 2. the ^voiKurepa, mechanics, optics, as¬ 
tronomy, and music ; and with these sciences he 
farther associated noXiTiicTi, tjOlkt], &c., political science, 
or the science of government, and ethics, &c. 

Thus there arose a distinct individualization of the 
sciences; but, at the same time, a combination of 
them into a complete course of instruction, the ky~ 
KVKXia TcaidevfiaTa : and hence comes ’Ey/cv/c^oTratde/a. 

We find this course first in the Alexandrian kirrac, 
or septenary. About the time of the Saviour, there 
were taught in Alexandria the seven liberal arts: 
grammar, rhetoric, dialectics, arithmetic, geometry, 
astronomy, and music : and these composed the com¬ 
plete cycle of liberal learning. But rhetoric, besides 
the attention which it thus received in connexion with 
other studies, was separately and pre-eminently culti¬ 
vated. 

From the time of the ancient rhapsodists down to 
the sophists, of whom we have just spoken, the ge¬ 
nius of the Greeks had never entirely disappeared 
from their culture : and yet this their culture had be¬ 
come essentially changed. 

Instruction and study, and the institutions devoted 
to them, assumed a new form. The state of things, 
which prevails at the universities of Europe, grew 
more and more into vogue. Athens itseljf became 
such a place of study, after the sophists had com* 


82 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


menced to lecture for money. In this practice the 
example was set by Protagoras of Abdera, a pupil of 
Democritus. He was an adept in the sophistic art, 
and realized a fortune by means of it. 

Gymnastics also lost its ancient character, being 
degraded into a mere art by which money was made. 
In the many different exhibitions of Rome, especially 
in the gladiatorial shows, we see the extent to which 
this noble exercise had degenerated. 

The Grecian institutions of learning were patron¬ 
ized and supported by the Romans, and the teachers 
of Athens and Byzantium received salaries from the 
emperors. Those of the former city subsisted for 
some centuries after Christ; those of the latter con¬ 
tinued for a long time to flourish in that imperial city, 
until it (Constantinople) was conquered by the Os- 
manlis, A.D. 1453, who destroyed, with rude barba¬ 
rism, all the literary institutions which they found 
-there, and thus became the means of sending the glo¬ 
rious intellectual treasures of Greece to Western Eu¬ 
rope. Some plants of Grecian culture had indeed 
been previously transferred, by other means, to Ger¬ 
many, and other portions of Occidental Europe ; but 
the Germans did not become fully acquainted with the 
rich treasures of that ancient mine, until, in the fif¬ 
teenth century, many learned Greeks fled before the 
sword of the barbarian to Italy. 

II. THE ROMANS. 

It cannot be our office here to discuss the much- 
disputed question, whence the Romans really took 
their origin. The history of ancient Italy is buried 
in impenetrable darkness. That Grecian, Asiatic, 
and other colonies emigrated across the eastern Med¬ 
iterranean into this beautiful land ; that probably also 
northern tribes, of Celtic or Germanic origin, were at¬ 
tracted by its sunny plains to settle in its upper part, 
while the lower was peopled by Greeks; that espe¬ 
cially the Etrurians, as a highly-civilized nation, dif¬ 
fused their culture throughout the central portion : 
all this is historically ascertained, and yet so envel- 


THE ROMANS* 


83 


oped by fabulous traditions, that we cannot penetrate 
nearly as far into the antiquity of this western land, as 
we can into that of the nations which have been hith¬ 
erto considered. And thus the origin of Rome itself, 
although it dates no farther back than the times imme¬ 
diately after Lycurgus, is covered by a mythic cloud. 

For such information as is attainable respecting 
the early culture and probable educational institu¬ 
tions of the Romans, the Etrurians, the Falisceans, 
the Sabines, we therefore refer the general reader to 
Livy, as translated by Baker, and published by the 
Harpers in their Classical Family Library, and to 
Plutarch’s Life of Numa, and hasten, without farther 
introduction, to present a connected view of Roman 
education itself, from materials derived from a vari¬ 
ety of sources. 

The education of the Romans differed in this from 
that of other civilized nations of antiquity, that the 
state took no cognizance of it, made no provision for 
it: not even in the manner in which this was done in 
Athens. 

Education was, therefore, in Rome a domestic mat¬ 
ter ; and it was at the domestic fireside, around the 
sacred Lares, that the children acquired what knowl¬ 
edge was necessary for the purposes of life, in that 
primitive period, until the state ordered that the young 
should be exercised in arms. 

In the earliest times, Roman life was regulated 
rather according to established custom (mos) than 
express law ; and, unquestionably, the early manners 
and customs of the Romans constituted, in them¬ 
selves, an excellent school for the young, if not in 
learning, yet in the graces and virtues of domestic 
and public life. Among these customs was monoga¬ 
my, which was subsequently sanctioned by law. All 
the members of the household, including the slaves, 
belonged to the father of the family (paterfamilias), 
who possessed a power over his family, almost more 
unlimited than that of any despotic monarch over his 
subjects. He was master (dominus) in his house (do- 
mus); but among the Romans the wife also had 


84 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


her sphere and authority as mistress (domina); for 
among all nations of the ante-Christian era, the Ro¬ 
mans and the Germanic nations were distinguished 
for the dignity of their matrons, and the generally 
respectable position of their females; and among 
them, therefore, polygamy was forbidden. 

Hence, among the ancient Romans, both custom 
and law watched over the purity of the matrimonial 
relation. Among them, chastity had its home, and 
everything was done to honour and guard it. If the 
institution of the vestal virgins furnishes evidence of 
this, the honour, the high respect which was paid 
these virgins, the severity of the punishment which 
they incurred by the violation of their vow, were a 
public testimonial to the sacredness of female virtue, 
and a stern rebuke to licentiousness. The earliest 
kings made provisions for securing the sanctity of 
wedded life. 

In the most ancient times of Rome, marriage was 
regarded as indissoluble. What were the enactments 
of the Twelve Tables respecting divorces is not 
known; but there is no evidence that any occurred 
until 520 A.U.C.: and although, in the case which oc¬ 
curred in this year, the husband had plausible reasons, 
which were sanctioned by the censor, he yet incurred 
the contempt of his fellow-citizens. But, from this 
time, separation became frequent, on the part both of 
husband and wife, and took place for reasons the most 
arbitrary. Augustus endeavoured, by legal enact¬ 
ments, to arrest the increasing demoralization; and 
subsequent emperors gladly availed themselves of the 
Christian institutes respecting marriage, especially 
Constantine the Great, who incorporated them in the 
civil law, and resisted, with severity, the prevalent 
frivolity in respect of repudiation. 

The father’s authority extended only to his legiti¬ 
mate children, who were called liberi ingenui. Vari¬ 
ous regulations served to limit this patria potestas, 
and to mitigate the excessive severities of its possi¬ 
ble abuse. 

If the exposure of infants (expositio infantis), 


THE ROMANS. 


85 


which prevailed so generally among the nations of 
antiquity, was not prohibited in Rome, it was yet sub¬ 
ject to great limitations ; and an express enactment 
of Romulus made it the duty of parents to raise their 
firstborn son or daughter. If the child had not been 
exposed, the parents were bound, by the ancient cus¬ 
tom, to its maintenance and education. 

The adoption of children, which was not unfre¬ 
quent, was an important matter of legislation, and 
carried out with such rigid consistency, that even 
marriages within this relation were regarded, and 
condemned, as incestuous. 

When a divorce had taken place, the sons usually 
remained with the father, and the daughters with the 
mother. As might be inferred from the position and 
dignity of the Roman matron (materfamilias), the 
mother’s influence in the education of her children 
was very considerable ; greater, probably, than with 
any other nation of antiquity. History i^urnishes a 
number of beautiful examples of the respect and ven¬ 
eration, which the matrons of Rome enjoyed. 

Roman education was then essentially domestic, 
and, to a great degree, influenced by the mother, so 
that, in this respect, it more nearly resembled our 
own, than that of either Sparta, or Athens, or any 
other ancient state. The state, indeed, made provis¬ 
ions for the treatment and education of children, 
but, as we have already remarked, established no ed¬ 
ucational institutions. The father was the natural 
teacher of the son, and the mother his natural educa- 
trix. 

Omitting a number of customs and ceremonies, 
which were observed in connexion w,i\h the birth of 
children, and their subsequent treatment during infan¬ 
cy, we proceed to notice sohie arrangements which 
had in view the necessary care of childhood. The 
boy was furnished with a guide, custos, or p^dagogus, 
who sometimes instructed him in gymnastics, or ac¬ 
companied him to the exercises, and then he was 
styled progymnasta. The psedagogus attended the 
boy to the theatre, where he took his seat at his side : 
H 


86 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION’. 


he had ^^reat power over him, and, being always one 
of the oider slaves, he generally grew morose and in¬ 
flated. It was often his business to instruct the boy 
in reading; but his office, in general, was to counsel 
{monere) him hoAV to conduct himself. The custos 
frequently exercised his office, until the boy had reach¬ 
ed the age of manhood. 

We have seen that it was, in reality, the father’s 
business to instruct his children, and many a distin¬ 
guished Roman performed this duty faithfully; Augus¬ 
tus assisted, in the discharge of this paternal duty, but 
Cato took the whole of it upon himself. The latter, 
although he had a slave who was not only competent 
to act as teacher, but even gave instruction, in the 
capacity of grammaticus, to other boys, himself in¬ 
structed his son in reading, swimming, and other ne¬ 
cessary attainments, because he considered that the 
father would treat his child better than the slave. 
There were, however, many teachers, who instructed 
boys in reading, writing, and sometimes also in calcu¬ 
lation, for which purpose the boys made use of tablets. 
A common teacher of this description was called ludi 
magister. 

Girls also attended the schools, certainly as early 
as 450 A.C., as we learn from the story of Virginia, 
given in detail in the third book of Livy. 

The incipient youths or tyros were, for the space 
of a year, exercised in arms in the Campus Martius, 
and in swimming in the Tiber. The Romans had, be¬ 
sides, palaestra, in the manner of the Greeks. 

It was not as common in Rome, as it was in Greece, 
to learn music: the flute was even regarded as un¬ 
seemly for Romans of rank. Yet, by means of the 
ancient national songs, which, in the earliest times, it 
was customary to sing%t meals, the practice of sing¬ 
ing was probably kept up. But when the culture of 
Greece had become, not only a desideratum, but the 
fashion in Rome, the city was well supplied with Gre¬ 
cian pcedagogi, grammatici, rraidorptBac, rhetores, and 
philosophers, as early as 250 A.C., soon after the 
first Punic war; and, of course, still more abundantly 


THE ROMANS. 


87 


after the conquest of Tarentum and of Corinth. 
Greeks, who devoted themselves to the instruction of 
youth, now flocked in crowds to the capital of the Em¬ 
pire, and it was quite common to employ Grecian slaves 
as teachers. And now the boy and the youth learn¬ 
ed to read, and expound, the Grecian poets and prose 
authors; the literature of Greece was transplanted into 
the Roman soil, and ingrafted on the Roman mind. 
Livius Andronicus and Spurius Carvilius are said to 
have been the first who undertook the duties of gram- 
matici. After the second Punic war, the ambassador 
of King Attains, Crates of Mallos, being confined to 
his room by a fractured leg, delivered lectures on the 
Greek authors. Not long before Cicero, the greatest 
of Roman orators, appeared on the public stage, Latin 
exercises in rhetoric were instituted, Valerius Cato 
and Varro having already, the former 160 A.C., the 
latter about 130 A.C., supplied written instruction in 
the Latin language ; while L. Plotius Gallus had him¬ 
self instructed Cicero, when a boy, in this his native 
tongue. Julius Caesar, a man of many-sided culture, 
and a zealous friend of science, even wrote a Latin 
grammar, which has been lost. But as the culture of 
the Greeks, in conjunction with the increasing corrup¬ 
tion of morals, elfected a change in the habits of the 
public mind, the philosophers and rhetores were, by a 
decree of the censors, expelled from Rome 170 A.C. 
But the effects of this expulsion were shortlived and 
unimportant. Grecian culture became more and more 
diffused in Rome, combining with that of its adopted 
home in the production of a new literary and public 
life. 

The results which grew out of this union of the 
Grecian and the Roman mind may, to a great ex¬ 
tent, be learned from the comedies of Terence, who 
transferred those of the Grecian Menander to the Ro¬ 
man soil. Not many passages are suitable to be 
cited in a work like the present, 

Juvenal, in his fourteenth satire, contrasts the man¬ 
ners and domestic life of early Rome with the state 
of things prevailing in his own age, and the picture 


88 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


which he draws, of the latter is indeed deplorable. 
Similar complaints are raised by the author of the 
‘‘Decay of Roman eloquence,” who is thought by 
some to have been Quintilian, by others Tacitus; it 
belongs, probably, to the end of the first century of 
the Christian era. Of the passage here particularly re 
ferred to, we give the following translation ; “ Things 
are difterent now from what they were with the an¬ 
cients. Parents and teachers have degenerated. 
With the ancient Romans there was severity of dis 
cipline. The child owed its existence to chaste 
parents, and the domestic mother took delight in 
rearing her young charge. It was not given to a 
nurse, but a female relative, of mature years and 
good character, assisted in its nurture. Such noble 
matrons were Cornelia, the mother of the Gracchi, 
Aurelia, the mother of Caesar, and Attia, the mother 
of Augustus. The design was to cultivate well the 
good dispositions of the son; and hence he was made 
to devote himself entirely to some one pursuit, ac¬ 
cording as his inclinations prompted him, either to 
the profession of arms, to jurisprudence, or to elo¬ 
quence. But now the child is given in charge to a 
female Grecian slave, with whom a male slave, who 
is fit for nothing else,, is associated, and by them 
the tender mind of the child is immediately crammed 
with idle tales and divers errors; and these slaves, 
moreover, indulge themselves, in the presence of the 
child, in everything that is calculated to make bad 
impressions. The parents themselves often train 
their children to vice and shamelessness; nay, it 
seems as though now the vices of the city, and fond¬ 
ness for gladiatorial shows, &c., were born with 
children. What room is then left in the mind for 
noble art and science 1 Where are the children to 
hear anything of these better pursuits 1 They know 
nothing else to converse about, except those enter¬ 
tainments and the like, when they come into the lec¬ 
ture (or recitation) rooms, and even from their teach¬ 
ers they hear scarcely anything else; for these merely 
pay their visits to the pupils, talk to them in the tone 
that suits them, and seek only to please them.” 


THE ROMANS. 


89 


Horace complains in a like manner, but in lan¬ 
guage still more definite, in his celebrated and indig¬ 
nant ode, “Delicta majorum immeritus lues,” &c. 
—See Carm., lib. hi., ode 6. Yet what Horace says 
of his own father proves that a better culture was 
not yet entirely extinct. 

Many classical passages, exhibiting the decay of 
education and morals, might be cited from the poets 
and the prose-writers of Rome. Thus the writings 
of Cicero alone would furnish a large amount of 
valuable matter. This great man approved himself, 
in various ways, the careful cultivator of his children, 
and wrote, as is well known, his celebrated treatise 
“De Officiis” (concerning duties) for his son, be- 
• sides furnishing instructive writings on various de¬ 
partments of science, especially rhetoric. 

To relieve the dark picture which we have present¬ 
ed, we may state, that it appears from several letters 
of the younger Pliny, that even in the later times of 
Rome there were yet found exemplary wives and 
mothers, and worthy fathers and educators. The 
writings of his friend, the great historian Tacitus, 
also furnish classical passages respecting the educa¬ 
tion of youth which then prevailed in Rome. 

Rome produced some authors who treated express¬ 
ly of education. Marcus Varro wrote, about the time 
of the Saviour’s birth, a work entitled “ Capys, aut de 
liberis educandis,” which has not come down to pos¬ 
terity. Gellius has preserved a few fragments of it. 

But the most distinguished Roman writer on edu¬ 
cation is Quintilian. His work, Institutiones Orato 
ris LL.XIL, is indeed more immediately designed to 
form the complete orator; but he begins with the cul¬ 
ture of man, and the earliest education of the child; 
and it therefore falls directly within the scope of the 
present historic sketch to give the following extracts 
from this work. 

“ In the earliest education of the boy, his future 
destination should be had in view ; hence also in that 
of the orator.” 

H 2 


90 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


“ Much depends on education; its object is to make 
of the child a good man.” 

“ Every father, cherishing the earliest hopes from 
the very beginning, should fimself undertake the ed¬ 
ucation of his son ; and for this, therefore, he ought 
to possess all necessary attainments. By imitatior 
children acquire good and evil (habits).” 

“ The child, and especially if designed to be an ora 
tor, should be at once accustomed to a correct pro¬ 
nunciation. In grammatical instruction, the Greek 
language, as the source of the Latin culture, ought to 
be commenced with, but the Latin language should be 
very soon after taken up, so as to be studied at the 
same time with the other. Instruction may be com¬ 
menced even before the seventh year, but it ought to 
be made agreeable to the boy: there is thus much 
gained for the age of youth.” 

“ Even for elementary instruction, the most skilful 
teachers ought to be selected.” ' 

“I cannot approve of the practice of causing the 
names, and the alphabetic succession of the letters, to 
be learned in preference to their forms. It would be 
better to teach the forms and the names together, just 
as we become acquainted with men. With regard to 
syllables, the above plan is more admissible. Ivory 
letters may be given to children to play with; also 
other things that please them, and which they handle, 
examine, and name. For the purpose of learning to 
write, it is very well to have the letters graven into 
the tablets, and to let the children trace the impres¬ 
sion with the pencil; it will thus be unnecessary to 
resort to the practice of guiding their hand. It is 
very important that a good hand, and skill in rapid 
writing, be acquired, for even thinking depends on 
this ; the more cultivated ought not, therefore, to neg¬ 
lect this acquisition as much as they do. While the 
boy is learning to read, he ought at once to be ac¬ 
customed to look ahead, at his right hand, while he is 
pronouncing. The syllables must all be thoroughly 
practised, in the succession in which they follow, and 
should by no means be passed over hastily. He 


THE ROMANS. 91 

ought to receive instructive (profitable) sentences to 
write, and not common words, as is usual.” 

Many are opposed to the public schools, for the 
reason that the children acquire bad habits there, and 
also because the teacher can bestow more attention 
upon one than on many. But these objections against 
the good old regulation are not insuperable ; there 
are also many evils connected with private instruc¬ 
tion. If the children were not early rendered effemi¬ 
nate, and otherwise spoiled, they would not be so ea¬ 
sily corrupted in the schools. The public instruction 
is to be preferred, especially for the future orator, in 
order that he may accustom himself to the multitude, 
and be stimulated by competition.” 

“ The teacher should immediately make himself 
acquainted with the disposition and the capacity (nat- 
uram et ingenium) of his pupils, and for this there 
are sure marks. The most will depend upon how the 
memory, the imitative impulse, and the attention are 
constituted. Precocious minds rarely attain to emi¬ 
nence. The teacher should then treat every-one ac¬ 
cording to his natural disposition and capacity. The 
good pupil will aim at winning praise. The young 
should also have opportunity for play and recreation. 
Whipping is not to be recommended, although Chry- , 
sippus advocates this mode of punishment.” 

From these extracts the reader will be able to form 
some little acquaintance with Quintilian’s pedagogic 
views. 

Aldus Gellius has very briefly and superficially dis¬ 
cussed the obedience of children. In comparison witli 
what Plato, Aristotle, and others have taught on this 
subject, his remarks are exceedingly meager, while 
the great principles involved are scarcely brought into 
view at all. 

We have thus gone over that most important part 
of the history of pedagogics^ of which it seemed par¬ 
ticularly desirable to present a somewhat extensive 
view. Of the time which intervenes between the pe¬ 
riod at which we have thus arrived, and the revival 


92 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. - 


of education in modern times, we shall take only a 
cursory view, designing to give a rather more de¬ 
tailed account of education as developed and system¬ 
atized within the last centuries. 

We have seen that, after the time of Alexander the 
Great, Grecian culture, in as far as it was involved in 
political institutions, underwent an essential change, 
and developed itself more in forms purely scientific ; 
and that this course of development was powerfully 
influenced, and in a great degree guided, by the great 
Stagyrite, who laid the foundation in Athens of the 
polyhistory and learned culture of modern times. 

At the mouth of the Nile, Alexander built, 331 
A.C., the city which bears his name. Under the Ptol¬ 
emies, who were his successors in Egypt, and who 
governed that country during several centuries, the 
sciences flourished. From the very beginning, these 
sovereigns, who were liberal patrons of learning, 
founded libraries in Alexandria, which filled up rapid¬ 
ly, from the circumstance that the papyrus was ob¬ 
tained in the immediate vicinity of the city. The 
principal library is said to have contained twenty- 
thousand volumes when it was destroyed by fire in 
the time of Julius CaBsar. In the same quarter of the 
city with this library was the royal palace, of which 
one wfing was called the fiovoelov, museum. Here as¬ 
sembled the learned, to whom a life void of care was 
secured in Alexandria, and constituted a sodality of 
scholars from all nations, having for their president a 
priest. 

In the suburbs Racotis, another library had been 
collected in the temple of Serapis. Including the 
books which Antony brought thither from Pergamus, 
it is said to have consisted of 120,000 volumes. Un¬ 
der the Emperor Theodosius, this library was destroy¬ 
ed by fire, about A.D. 400. 

Athens continued to flourish as a seat of learning. 
Here also large and valuable libraries were collected; 
and in this city, besides other sciences, grammar or 
criticism, rhetoric or sophistic learning, and philoso¬ 
phy were chiefly taught in academic institutions, 


THE ROMANS. 


93 


And thus Athens and Alexandria contained, even for 
the Romans themselves, the principal educational in¬ 
stitutions, until the emperors elevated Rome itself, 
and afterward Constantinople, to a similar rank, and 
established other, though not as distinguished, seats 
of learning throughout their vast empire. 

In Athens the gymnasia, with their regulations, 
continued to subsist under the Roman emperors. 
But, as regards intellectual culture and scientific study, 
the influence of the sophists, as we have already, in 
part, shown, was highly unpropitious. In the absence 
of all fixed institutions controlled by the government, 
parties arose among the students, who sought only, 
by proceedings the most rude, tumultuary, and vio¬ 
lent, to secure all new'-comers, for whose arrival they 
watched in the port, to some favourite professor. Of 
this riotous state of aflfiiirs among the students of 
Athens, Eunapius, Gregory of Nazianzen, both in the 
4th century P.C , and Libanius (about 230-250 P.C.), 
a celebrated sophist, and the teacher of Chrysostom, 
make loud complaint. It was also complained that, 
as very few students paid the demanded fee, the in¬ 
come of the professors was not only so utterly inade¬ 
quate to their support as to compel them to beg of 
the magistrates, but that they were treated with base 
ingratitude, yea, with contempt and ridicule ; so that 
they had neither motive nor opportunity to exert 
themselves for the good education of their pupils, 
who ran from one instructer to another, as the w'him 
of the moment guided them. Of this disorderly state 
of things, which reached its climax about six or seven 
centuries after Aristotle, we may already trace the 
beginnings in his time. 

The professors themselves were arrayed against 
each other; they arranged meetings, in which they 
publicly drsputed on a variety of subjects : for exam¬ 
ple, the grammarians on rules of language. 

The philosophers had their schools adjoining each 
other, and, at the same time, stated places of meet¬ 
ing, where they came together for the purpose of dis¬ 
puting. The lectures and exercises were held daily 


94 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


in an auditorium. The students frequently engaged 
in a sort of contest, especially on certain festivals ; so 
that here also we trace the transition of the national 
customs and higher culture of Attica, into the excess¬ 
es of a degenerate scholastic life. 

In ancient times, the ’Avdecrr^pia (a festival in hon¬ 
our of Bacchus) had been observed also as a festival 
for youth, boys of three years of age being, on the 
first day of the festival, crowned with a garland of 
flowers: in later times it was customary on the sec¬ 
ond day to send to the public teachers, especially 
the sophists, their fee, besides presents; whereupon 
these instituted a convivial feast, on wliich occasion 
great feats of drinking were performed. The best 
drinker was rewarded with a cask of wine and a gar¬ 
land of leaves. The practice which had prevailed in 
the better days of Athens, of instituting scientific and 
literary contests in connexion with different public 
festivals, seemed now to have entirely degenerated 
into drinking-bouts and absurd disputation, so that 
Athens exhibits the caricature of all subsequent stu¬ 
dent-life. 

Aulus Gellius, however, poi;trays scenes of a some¬ 
what different character, at which he was himself 
present. Of one of these we present the following 
abstract: “ We spent the Saturnalia at Athens joy¬ 
ously, in jovial, but not indecorous entertainments. 
We Romans, who happened to be there, and attended 
the lectures of the same professors, assembled in con¬ 
siderable numbers. One, whose turn it was, provided 
the meal, and at the same time offered some work of 
an ancient Latin or Greek author, and a laurel-wreath, 
as a prize for him who should solve some question to 
be proposed. A question was assigned by lot to 
each : if he solved it he received the prize ; if not, the 
question passed on to the next; if all failed, the prize 
fell to the god of the festival. The problem consisted 
of some passage from an ancient poet or philosopher, 
or some point in history, or some captio sophistica, 
or some philological question: for example, respect¬ 
ing frustra, as used by Ennius, or also a passage 


THE ROMANS. 


95 


from Plato’s Republic, or some captious sophism: 
for example, What you have not lost you have ; but 
horns you have not lost, therefore you have horns; 
or. When I lie and say that I lie, do I then lie or speak 
the truth 1 and other like things.” 

Thus a fixed student-life had developed itself in 
Athens, in which we recognise nearly all the peculi¬ 
arities and arrangements of the modern German uni¬ 
versities. Yet, notwithstanding the trifling and the 
solemn fooleries which prevailed in this ancient city 
of the Muses, there were many who devoted them¬ 
selves seriously to study, especially that of elo¬ 
quence. When the Romans became masters of 
Greece, they took Athens under their special protec¬ 
tion, from their partiality to Grecian literature ; it be¬ 
came their favourite city, as we learn from Cicero, 
and more particularly from his friend Atticus. 

The Romans now began to emulate the conquered 
Greeks. Julius Caesar was the first who procured for 
Grecian scholars an honourable reception at Rome, 
by conferring the right of citizenship on grammarians 
and other teachers, as well as physicians, who occur, 
from this time forward, in the same category with the 
professors. 

Augustus and his minister Mecaenas were still 
more active in this cause, and they are justly regard¬ 
ed as eminent patrons of the sciences. The latter 
admitted to his intercourse the most distinguished 
scholars and men of talent, and encouraged them 
by honourable distinctions and rewards. Augustus 
sought to bring the schools into better repute by ex¬ 
onerating the teachers from public offices and other 
occupations, in consequence of which measure their 
Jiumber greatly increased. Sometimes the gramma¬ 
rians and rhetores were also philosophers, whose lec¬ 
tures were attended by such young Romans as set up 
pretensions to culture. These teachers, therefore, 
repaired to Rome in great numbers. But those who 
aimed at the highest degree of scholarship, visited 
Athens, or the celebrated school of the rhetoricians at 
Rhodes: many went to Mytilene, or even to Massilia 


96 


HISTORY OP EDUCATION. 


in Gaul, and to Corduba in Spain. There were also 
many inferior grammatical schools throughout the 
Roman Empire. 

But soon the decay of the Athenian institutions, as 
well as views of a political nature, excited a desire in 
the emperors to make Rome herself a prominent seat 
of learning. This purpose became more maturely 
developed in the mind of Vespasian (emperor from 
A.D. 69-79) by the circumstance that the so-called 
Magistri had private schools of learning in Rome, and 
more especially that the illustrious Quintilian was 
giving instruction- as a rhetorician, with great accept¬ 
ance, in the metropolis. Vespasian appointed him 
public professor of eloquence, assigning him a con¬ 
siderable salary from the public funds, and employ¬ 
ed, at the same time, several other professors of 
rhetoric. 

The idea which had originated with Vespasian was 
more fully carried out by Adrian, immediately upon 
his accession to the imperial throne. Adrian reigned 
from A.D. 117-138. He founded in the Capitol the so- 
called Athenaeum, in which, besides the professors of 
rhetoric, he also appointed grammarians, with re¬ 
spectable salaries. The immunities which these 
teachers had enjoyed under his predecessors were 
now extended to freedom from all extraneous duties. 
From this time onward these public teachers were 
styled professors, or literati. 

Antoninus Pius (emperor from A.D. 138-161) found¬ 
ed, in addition, a professorship of philosophy, and es¬ 
tablished in all the important cities of the Roman Em¬ 
pire institutions of learning, on the model of that in 
Rome. 

After Constantine the Great had converted the an¬ 
cient Byzantium, under its new name of Constanti¬ 
nople, into the imperial capital, he sought to establish 
there, in an improved form, whatever was excellent in 
the institutions of Rome, and particularly to elevate 
his new metropolis into the first seat of learning in 
the world. As the Athenccum in Rome had eclipsed 
the mother-institution in Athens, so was Constantino- 


THE ROMANS. 


97 


pie to possess a similar, but far more illustrious insti¬ 
tution of culture. He had here erected a Capitol, in 
which he now established an auditorium: and this 
he designed to be the highest institution of learning in 
the empire ; the professors being strictly required to 
confine their labours to its halls, in order thus to pre¬ 
vent any from hawking about their learning, like the 
circumforanei, in the public streets and market-places. 

In the fifth century there were engaged in that (so- 
called) auditorium thirty-one professors, classified as 
follows: 1 . Eloquence, eight; Latin language (orato- • 
res), three ; Greek language (sophistae), five : gram¬ 
marians, twenty ; i. e., ten in the Greek and ten in the 
Latin language : 3. one philosophus : and, 4. two pro- 
fessores juris. At the public library were employed 
four Greek and three Latin antiquarii, whose business 
it was to arrange, repair, and correct the ancient man¬ 
uscripts. 

Athens, Alexandria, Rome, and Constantinople 
were, until the fifth century, the principal seats of 
learning and of study in the Roman Empire: we should 
say in the world, had there not still existed in East¬ 
ern Asia a number of institutions of the old style. 
Under the patronage of the emperors, such resorts of 
the studious were gradually multiplied. Gaul had 
been, from early times, distinguished for the cultiva¬ 
tion of the sciences and for eloquent men; first at 
Massilia, then in Lugdunum, and afterward at Au- 
gustodunum (Marseilles, Lyons and Autun); and thus 
there were necessarily erected similar institutions at 
Trier (Treves), the capital since the time of Constan¬ 
tine, as also in other cities of that region. 

From the writings of Suetonius, Gellius, Quintilian, 
and others, we learn that the course pursued by the 
professors was as follows: they expounded the 
writings of Cicero, the poems of Virgil, Horace, 
Statius, and others, in the Latin department; and, in 
like manner, the works of the Greek authors. The 
grammarians, also, had introduced the system of 
certifying, i. e., of giving testimonials respecting the 
respective merits of their pupils. In giving instruc- 


98 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


tion they scarcely ever laid aside the rod; and Quin¬ 
tilian is, as far as we know, the first who condemned 
the practice of whipping. The rhetores practised 
certifying still more extensively; but, though severe 
in their discipline, no longer used the rod, for they 
took up those pupils who had completed their studies 
under the grammaticus, and also instructed adults. 
The new methods of instruction rendered necessary 
a plan of classification, or system for arranging the 
pupils in classes : the origin of this system we there- 
• fore discover in the division into grammatica, the 
lowest class, into rhetorica and philosophia, the pu¬ 
pil advancing from one to the other until he reached 
the highest class. The arrangements were the same 
in the schools of the rhetoricians. Quintilian says 
of his teacher that he had retained the very useful 
plan of dividing his pupils (pueros) into classes and 
sub-classes, according to their capacities, which were 
determined according as each pupil solved the propo¬ 
sition given to him; to be at the head of the class 
was the highest honour. At the end of every thirty 
days the process of certification was renewed, so that 
then another might advance to the first place. This, 
he says, had operated far better, and effected more 
than all the admonitions of the teachers, all the vigil¬ 
ance of the. pedagogues, and all the vows of the 
parents could have accomplished. 

These glimpses of the academic life of that period 
are the more interesting to us, because of the resem¬ 
blance between many of its arrangements to those of 
modern times. This appears also in the academic 
laws which the joint rulers Valentinian, Valens, and 
Gratian drew up, A.D. 370, more immediately for the 
institutions in Rome. These statutes were given to 
those imperial institutions at the time when they 
were at the height of their prosperity and fame. We 
have not space to recapitulate them here; but it is 
obvious that, when the Western Empire was ap¬ 
proaching its dissolution, there existed in Rome a 
public institution of learning formally organized ac¬ 
cording to prescribed statutes. Here, then, we dis- 


ARABIAN CULTURE. 


99 


cover the basis of the later German universities: 
here already we find immatriculation, relegation, and 
the archetype of three faculties. Here assembled 
students from all provinces, and the institution con¬ 
tinued in some degree to flourish even down to the 
reign of Athalaric the Goth. In presenting this 
sketch of Roman education, the difficulty has not 
been to find materials, but to select, from a vast 
amount of interesting and valuable matter, what 
might seem to be most important, and we hope that 
nothing that is essential has been omitted. 

We are now to enter upon a new epoch in the his¬ 
tory of human education, beginning with the inter¬ 
vention of a new ‘power, a new cultivating energy: 
we speak of Christianity. But, before we proceed to 
draw a brief sketch of education as gradually affected 
by our divine religion, and finally developed in those 
forms which it has assumed since the Reformation, 
we shall, though it be at the expense of chronology, 
give an account of Arabian culture in this place, in or¬ 
der that the thread of history may not hereafter be 
broken by the introduction of this subject. 

SECTION VII. 

ARABIAN CULTURE. 

Muhammed, the founder of Islamism, made, since 
A.D. 622, extensive conquests with his Arabians, and 
at the same time extended his religious creed. This 
impostor, but still more his successors, established, as 
is well known, new dynasties in Asia, Africa, and Eu¬ 
rope. His sacred book, the Koran, has derived many 
things from the Jewish and Christian religions, while 
it contains maxims and imagery in the Arabian style; 
for, like other Oriental nations, the Arabians also had 
their poetic creations. 

It could not be otherwise that the conquering hosts 
of Muhammed’s successors would be hostile to the 
culture which was advancing in its development, 
through the influence of Christianity, in the Roman 
Empire. When, therefore, in the year of our Lord 


100 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


641, they took possession of Alexandria, the Caliph 
Omar caused the libraries of that city to be destroy¬ 
ed, and countless volumes, repositories of the treas¬ 
ures of antiquity, were cast into the flames in order 
to furnish steam-baths to rude barbarians and volup¬ 
tuaries. Yet it was not in the nature of the Arabians 
to be enemies of the sciences ; on the contrary, they 
zealously promoted them in several countries where 
they had established their empire. And thus they fa¬ 
voured them in Egypt also ; and although liberal stud¬ 
ies had now entirely died out in Alexandria, they 
gradually revived again, and after the lapse of some 
time they were established anew in that city by the 
Arabians. The caliphs extended their conquests in 
North Africa, and with sweeping rapidity the current 
rolled its whelming flood from Arabia to the Atlan¬ 
tic, and, led on by Abd-el-Malek, across to Gibraltar, 
soon reaching the Pyrenees, and over and beyond 
them : and who can tell to what extent Europe would 
have been inundated, had not Charles Martel, A.D. 
732, by his great victory on the banks of the Loire, 
arrested and driven back this tide of barbarian inva¬ 
ders, and thus saved to Christianity the ground which 
it had gained. 

As well in the measures of individual sovereigns 
as in their whole mode of thinking, the Arabians man¬ 
ifested their intellectual capacity and activity, and 
their love of the sciences. It was not only by their 
fairy tales and other poetic creations, but through 
their cultivation of several of the severe sciences, 
that they became the instructers of the Middle Ages, 
after they had introduced some of the treasures of 
Grecian literature among themselves. They cultiva¬ 
ted with zeal the natural sciences, mathematics, med¬ 
icine, and philosophy; they translated, and comment¬ 
ed upon, works of Greek authors; they had authors 
of their own, and made independent progress in the 
field of science and literature. They were thus the 
inventors of algebra, the name of which indicates its 
origin. Jews and Christians studied among them and 
with them, and though religious enemies, they often 


ARABIAN CULTURE. 


101 


lived together as friends, in the common bonds of 
learning and scholarly intercourse. They left unmo¬ 
lested some of the earlier institutions of education, 
such as the law-school at Berytus, the seminaries of 
the Jews and the Christians' at Nisibis, and those of 
the Christians at Antioch and at Edessa; but they 
also established several of their own, for the special 
benefit of Muhammedans, at Basra and Kufa in the 
ninth century, at Emesa and Samarcand in the twelfth, 
at Aleppo and Bokharin in the tenth, and in other cit¬ 
ies. 

Haroun al Raschid (A.D. 788-809), the illustrious 
contemporary of Charlemagne, is pre-eminently ex¬ 
tolled by Arabian writers as the friend and promoter 
of the sciences. 

Grammatical studies, poetry, philosophy, jurispru¬ 
dence, medicine, astronomy, mathematics, natural 
science, and, sad to relate, magic also, flourished 
among the Arabians during the reign of this great 
prince; and to strangers also, his capital, Bagdad, 
was open as an emporium of learning. His success¬ 
or Mamoun (from A.D. 813) also cherished this sci¬ 
entific and literary spirit; but he suffered it to stoop 
to small matters, and to stray into astrological and 
magical follies: his highest praise is, that he caused the 
great works of the Greeks to be translated into Arabic. 

The first prince who distinguished himself as a lov¬ 
er of art in Spain was Hakem (796-822), who built 
stately structures at Cordova; and during the reign 
of his successor, Abd-er-Rhaman II., the great musi¬ 
cian Zaryab came from Irak to Spain. The third ca¬ 
liph of that name enlarged and beautified the capital 
just mentioned (about A.D. 940), and founded the in¬ 
stitutions of learning which flourished there, and of 
which there were seventeen, besides seventy libraries. 
Females were also instructed there, and the works of 
distinguished poetesses read and explained in the 
schools. This excellent sovereign maintained the 
most friendly relations with the other European mon- 
archs, especially with the Greek emperor Leo, and 
the German emperor Otho I. Thus were liberal stud- 
12 


102 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


ies established among the Arabians in Spain, especial¬ 
ly at Cordova, for the benefit, also, of Jews and Chris¬ 
tians. Similar academic institutions existed at Tole¬ 
do, Salamanca, and Seville ; and in Africa also they 
established high schools in Kairwan, Tunis, Fessan, 
and Algiers. 

In Egypt, likewise, the Arabian princes were, at 
different times, patrons of learning, especially from 
946 to 967. The same is true of their Asiatic empires, 
particularly the Persian. In this empire flourished, 
during the splendid reign of Mahmoud, among others, 
the celebrated naturalist and physician Avicenna; 
here, about A.D. 1030, were libraries, and schools of 
learning, of which Christians, Parses, Muhammed- 
ans, Jews, and perhaps also Brahmins, availed them¬ 
selves in common. In Syria, Damascus became a 
seat of the sciences ; also Emesa, Aleppo, and other 
cities ; and when, in the eleventh century, the Jewish 
seminaries about the Euphrates were discontinued, 
the studies which had been cultivated in them were 
transferred to the West, and especially from the 
Arabian institutions to Spain. Cordova remained, 
during several centuries, one of the most important 
seats of culture. 

Thus we observe, in all this, the influx, through va¬ 
rious channels, into Europe, even to the Atlantic, of 
ancient Oriental science, and of the culture of those 
institutions which flourished, in hoar antiquity, in the 
remotest East. 

There were yet recently found, even in Africa, 
higher schools of the above description : for example, 
one in connexion with the mosque at Cairo, and an¬ 
other at Bornou, connected with the principal mosque 
of that city; this institution possessed a library, and 
was frequented by many men of learning, and by pu¬ 
pils who were supported at the expense of the sultan. 
Besides the higher sciences, there was here also in¬ 
struction given in reading, writing, and arithmetic. 
We have no knowledge of the present condition of 
this institution. But in all the Muhammedan cities 
there are schools for boys, usually close by the 


THE CHRISTIAN WORLD, 


103 


mosques; nor are the higher studies neglected. Po¬ 
litical convulsions, which have shaken the Muham- 
n^edan empires, revolutions which may not be far dis- 
t^t, and the labours of Christian missionaries, will 
probably open new channels for the tide of learning 
and culture which once flowed over Europe from the 
East, to return, with tenfold volume and power, to that 
now benighted region. 


THE CHRISTIAN WORLD. 

We have endeavoured to set before the reader what 
was great, and good, and beautiful in the culture, in the 
education of the nations of antiquity, and truly we have 
found much to admire and to commend; much that 
is valuable in our own day, especially among those 
classic nations whose glorious literature still consti¬ 
tutes a principal means for the intellectual, and more 
particularly the aesthetic culture of the modern schol¬ 
ar, and whose eminence in the flue arts has not been 
attained by any subsequent age. 

But while those nations of the East, among whom 
the institutions and arrangements of remote antiquity 
still continue unchanged, are in a state of bondage 
and torpor as respects the development of mind, the 
highest interests of society, and the noblest purposes 
of human life ; while the Israelites, who became the 
channel through which was transmitted to us the 
earlier revelation of the living and true God, forfeited 
their highest privileges^ through their devotion to 
lifeless forms and external temple-worship and Rab- 
binism, the educational institutions, the beautiful 
culture, the civil and social organizations of Greece 
and Rome have utterly passed away, intellectual 
degeneracy and moral corruption preceding and ush¬ 
ering in the decay and downfall of those once mighty 
and illustrious nations. The sweet breeze of morn¬ 
ing has long since ceased to whisper in the palms of 



104 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


Zion; many centuries have passed since Grecian 
sages wandered and meditated under their shady 
plane-trees; and from the forest of their laurels the 
power of the Romans has long since departed. ,^A 
proof, all this, that the wisdom of the ancients, how¬ 
ever effective for a season in regulating and adorn¬ 
ing the life of separate nations, was not competent 
to benefit, essentially, the great family of man; to 
remedy corruptions, to arrest the progress of degener¬ 
acy, to establish virtue, to secure substantial happi¬ 
ness ; that their culture could not, therefore, conduct 
either the individual or the race to the true end of 
human existence; that hence this wisdom, or this 
culture, having within itself the seeds of decay, could 
but last its little day, and then cease from among 
men as though it had not been ; and that an element 
was wanting in the education, the general culture of 
man, which might, with persuasive energy, embrace 
the entire race, and adapt its influence to every age, 
and locfility, and condition of the human family; 
satisfy every higher want of the soul, unlock the 
mysteries of the present, and the glories of the future 
life, and guide the free and immortal spirit in the 
paths of eternal truth, and by the unchanging prin¬ 
ciples of true virtue, to peace on earth, and to un¬ 
fading happiness in the life to come. And this ele¬ 
ment, this divine energy, this “one thing needful,” 
came among men in the religion of Christ. 

Jesus, born as the promised Messiah among the 
Jewish people and in the time of the Emperor Au¬ 
gustus, lowly in his human relations, but declared by 
Divine glory to be the Saviour of the world, approves 
himself, by word and deed, highly exalted above all 
the wise teachers of antiquity. He himself proclaims 
that the time had come in which men should cease to 
regard this or that temple as exclusively sacred, and 
when all the world should learn to know that God is 
a Spirit, who must be worshipped in spirit and in 
truth ; that he had come to reveal him as the Father 
in heaven, and to make those who believe in him 
“ free indeed;” to redeem them, and to bestow on 
them, as the children of God, eternal life. 


THE CHRISTIAN WORLD. 


105 


The history of his life is inseparably connected with 
his work of redemption. He dies on the cross, is bu¬ 
ried, rises again on the third day, gives his disciples 
the commission to preach the Gospel of the kingdom 
to all nations, and ascends before their eyes to heav¬ 
en. They obey his command after having received 
for this purpose a higher power, the Holy Spirit, and 
bear witness of Christ, as the Son of God, the Media¬ 
tor, the Lord: they preach that whosoever believeth 
in him shall be saved, and exhibit in themselves that 
newness of life whereof they testify. They were, in a 
worldly point of view, unimportant men and unlearn¬ 
ed Jews, with the exception of the apostle Paul, who, 
familiar with the culture of the Jews and the Greeks, 
joyfully proclaims his own experience of that new 
power which had appeared among men: “ I am not 
ashamed of the Gospel of Christ, for it is the power 
of God unto salvation to every one that believeth.” 

What no priests on the Ganges, the Nile, the Eu¬ 
phrates could accomplish, with all their wisdom and 
their mysteries ; what no teacher like Zerdusht, Con¬ 
fucius, Pythagoras, or Socrates had been able to 
achieve, that was done by poor fishermen from the 
obscure sea of Tiberias; what those far-famed sages 
never could even conceive of, was introduced among 
men by persons of humble rank, and through their 
instrumentality communicated not only to a few of 
their contemporaries, but extended, as the kingdom 
of light, over the whole earth: they proclaimed the 
salvation of mankind. This had been obscurely an¬ 
ticipated and eagerly desired by the purer and nobler 
minds of preceding ages.* This was not that human 
energy, habituated merely to self-government, but it 
was a Divine power, liberating from sensual bondage 
to the extent of entire self-denial, exalting to holiness 
of life, renewing the spirit of man; it was, and ever 
continues to be, a new creation. Such is the nature 

* Witness the Eastern Magi, whom the star gnided to the manger at 
Bethlehem. Dr. Harris, in his “ Great Teacher,” refers to the remarkable 
language which Socrates held on this subject to his pupil Plato, by whom 
liis words are recorded. 


106 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


of Christianity. It cultivates, it forms the individual 
to resemblance of God, and it develops the human 
race to the attainment of its destination. Thus, after 
the winter, in which perished the creations of ahtiqui- 
ty, has appeared the spring, in which the Divine Spirit 
of love calls forth a new life. The kingdom of God, 
which was thus introduced, is an inward, a spiritual 
kingdom, yet manifesting itself also in an external 
form, inasmuch as it breaks forth gradually, amid the 
conflicts which it sustains against human corruption, 
into greater extent and power, leads on the victory of 
good over evil, and will ultimately glorify the earth. 
Here, then, is more than that harmony, nationality, 
calocagathia, and humanity of classic antiquity: a 
new life rises upon the world, in which the spirit of 
man is glorified, and the nations of the earth become 
united in the public spirit of humanity—a spirit of love, 
that embraces the whole great family of man. The 
one eternal, living God, who worketh everywhere, 
and, as our Father in heaven, carries out gloriously 
his holy will; the sinfulness of man, of which each 
individual must, for himself, obtain an experimental 
knowledge, in order that he may desire and obtain the 
pardon which the Saviour wrought out for him, and 
freely offers to him, and consecrate himself, through 
the grace that is given, entirely to God, for this life 
and that which is to come: these are the great and 
new doctrines which Christianity has introduced; not 
merely set up as a theory, but implanted as a living 
and operative power in the mind and heart of man. 
They will extend farther and wider, and exalt and re¬ 
generate the human race. The faculties of the indi¬ 
vidual renewed into a child of God are thus to be de¬ 
veloped for his own real good and the good of others : 
and thus shall nations, pervaded by its regenerating 
and sanctifying power, pursue their interests, and 
prosecute their benevolent efforts in peace with each 
other; the whole race shall be developed to a life of 
true wisdom and virtue, the earth become the abode 
of love to God and man, and the kingdom and glory 


THE CHRISTIAN WORLD. 107 

of God be promoted in all things: and this, there¬ 
fore, is also the great idea of Christian education. 

As the light of Christianity first exhibited the idea 
of education in its full import and its entire compass, 
this distinctness will appear, also, in a complete ac¬ 
count of the history of education as affected by Chris¬ 
tianity. The historian will consider the operation of 
the new cultivating power or principle, and show, at 
the same time, how those elements, which had been 
retained from the systems and institutions of antiqui¬ 
ty, have been changed, and thus point out the gradual 
development of the culture of modern times. 

The history of education thus becomes, in one sense, 
more general; in another, more definite. It becomes 
more general because it considers less the peculiar 
education of particular nations, than the education of 
man in general, as it ought to exist among all nations. 
It becomes more definite, because it has to portray 
the institutions, the instrumentalities, and the meth¬ 
ods which have developed themselves in this age of 
the world. And as this development has taken place 
principally in Europe, it is to that quarter of the globe 
that the historian will be almost entirely confined. 

In presenting such a history of Christian education, 
the author from whom our materials are derived goes 
very much into detail. He adopts, very naturally, 
two periods: in the first, the Christian culture effects 
a gradual entrance among the nations of Europe, con¬ 
tending with the opposition of enemies and the obsti¬ 
nacy of ancient custom, &c.; in the second, it shakes 
off the yoke, asserts its power, and begins to exhibit 
its effects in the life of nations * in domestic life, in 
the instruction of youth by the Church, in Britain, 
Germany, France, and elsewhere; in the scholastic 
arrangements and institutions of those countries, and 
in the pedagogic literature of this period. 

We have already stated that on this earlier period 
we shall not dwell in detail; its history is more or 
less identical with that of the Church, from her first be¬ 
ginning in Judea, to her final extension over the length 
and breadth of Europe. We shall therefore be very 


108 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


brief until we reach the second period, with its exten¬ 
sive arrangements, its theories and methods, its ped¬ 
agogic sects and literature, 

SECTION I. 

HIGHER INSTITUTIONS OF EDUCATION. 

1 . School of the Catechists at Alexandria. 

The first teachers of Christianity established no fix¬ 
ed institutions of education. They instiTicted men by 
preaching; and several of them, also, by those inval¬ 
uable epistles found in the sacred volume of the New 
Testament. 

In Alexandria, the Gospel is said to have been first 
preached by St. John, whence he is often, but errone¬ 
ously, regarded as the founder of the school of cate¬ 
chists in that city. Instruction in the Christian reli¬ 
gion was termed catechesis, but by this was usually 
meant popular instruction in Christianity; and with 
this, we are not to confound that learned instruction 
given, in the school of the catechists, to those who 
were designed for the work of the ministry. The 
founder of this higher institution for Christian teach¬ 
ers, was Pantaenus, a Stoic philosopher who had be¬ 
come a convert to Christianity. His activity in Al¬ 
exandria commenced A.D. 181, but how long he held 
his otfice there as president of the school is uncer¬ 
tain : his successor was Clement. The latter was 
succeeded by Origen, who was (from A.D. 213) the 
most distinguished teacher at this first Christian sem¬ 
inary. His lectures were much frequented, even by 
pagans, many of whom, for instance his successor 
Heraclas, became Christians. He instructed his the¬ 
ological pupils also in the profane sciences, mathe¬ 
matics, logic, rhetoric, natural philosophy, metaphys¬ 
ics, ethics, astronomy; and aimed, in general, at com¬ 
prehensive encyclopaedic culture. This school was 
under the authority and superintendence of the epis- 
copus of Alexandria, by whom the teacher was ap¬ 
pointed. We find no notice of any separate building 
appropriated to its purposes : the lectures were prob- 


HIGHER INSTITUTIONS OF EDUCATION. 109 ’ 

ably held in private houses, perhaps sometimes also 
in a church. It gradually declined, lingering after 
the Arian controversy through a precarious exist¬ 
ence, till the beginning of the second quarter of the 
fourth century, when, after an attempt to revive it in 
the fifth century, every trace of it disappears. 

About A.D. 600, Pope Gregory the Great seemed 
inclined to establish a seminary in Rome for the edu¬ 
cation of Christian teachers ; but his taste led him to 
other pursuits, which prevented this idea, if ever he 
seriously entertained it, from being realized. 

Individual clergymen, distinguished for learning 
and influence in the Church, frequently became the 
instructers of others, without establishing particu¬ 
lar institutions ; and many educated themselves, by 
means of the writings of such eminent men. 

Thus, during several centuries, the Christian Church 
had no fixed method of communicating theological 
instruction. 

2. The Imperial Schools^ and the Universities. 

We have already, on a former page, spoken of 
those public institutions of learning which the Ro¬ 
man emperors established in the principal cities of 
the Empire, and among which the Athenaeum at 
Rome first attained a splendid reputation, and after¬ 
ward the Auditorium at Constantinople. The Muse¬ 
um at Alexandria also enjoyed considerable patron¬ 
age. 

In the provinces, the schools of the rhetoricians, at 
which also the grammarians usually gave instruction, 
continued to flourish for a while longer. The schools 
of Berytus, Rhodes, and Mytilene were particularly 
frequented by those Romans who devoted themselves 
to the study of law. 

It has been seen that Gaul was early distinguished 
for the cultivation of the sciences, and the imperial 
schools in that province enjoyed great consideration, 
even to the invasions of the Visigoths, Burgundians, 
and Franks (428). Several such schools had also 
been founded in Belgium and in Germany; and a 
K 


110 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


number likeAvise, it is said, in Britain, among; which 
those at Cantabrigium, Oxonia, and especially Ebora- 
cum, were most distinguished. These, however, be¬ 
came entirely extinct when the Romans, about A.D. 
440, left Britain to its fate, and the Angles and Sax¬ 
ons, A.D. 449, commenced their irruptions. 

Similar schools existed in other parts of the Empire; 
but with the fall of the Empire and the immigration 
of the Germanic tribes, towards the middle of the fifth 
century, they entirely disappeared. 

But a new class of educational institutions now 
sprung up in Western Europe, whose organic princi¬ 
ple it would be difficult to point out: and these are 
the universities. If they derived their organization 
in part from the imperial schools just spoken of, and 
partly also from the ancient medical schools, the stu¬ 
dent-life, wild and lawless, which characterized them, 
Avas copied from that which, as we have seen, existed 
at Athens in its later times. 

The universities occur first in Italy, and among a 
great number that might be mentioned, that at Bono- 
nia (Bologna) was probably the first of all, being 
founded in A.D. 1158. Its professors first obtained 
their jurisdiction from the Emperor Frederic I., in 
1158. Its constitution, as finally settled, was much 
the same as that of modern German universities. 

The students, classified according to the nations 
whence they came, enjoyed great and singular priv¬ 
ileges, and none more distinguished than the German 
nation. 

The statutes, which imbodied the constitution of 
the university, might be altered every twenty years, 
but only by the students themselves, Avho elected for 
this purpose eight statuarii from their midst. In A.D. 
1253 they were, for the first time, ratified by the pope. 

Since the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, there 
existed at this institution several distinct collegia, or, 
as they are termed in modern times, faculties : they 
were the following five : 1. The collegium of the ca¬ 
nonical, or canon-law; 2. that of civil law; 3. the med¬ 
ical ; 4. the philosophical; and, 5. the theological col- 


HIGHER INSTITUTIONS OF EDUCATION. Ill 

kgium. The first consisted of twelve, the second of 
sixteen regular members. 

Besides the regular, there were also extraordinary 
lectures. The regular course comprehended one 
year, beginning on the nineteenth and twentieth of 
October, and ending with the seventh of September. 
With this day commenced the principal vacation ; but 
there was a number of minor vacations during the 
year. The recitations and disputations were con¬ 
ducted according to fixed statutes ; and even the cloth¬ 
ing of the students, both as regards the material and 
the cut, was prescribed, in order to prevent extrava¬ 
gance. The colour was usually black. 

Next in importance among the early universities 
is that of Paris, whose origin is entirely unknown. 
Our limits do not admit of a detailed account of its 
arrangements, it diifered from the universities of 
Italy chiefly in that the doctores and magistri passed 
resolutions and enacted statutes themselves, and not, 
as in Italy, the students, who appear to have had no 
influence whatever in Paris. 

Among the collegia of the Paris university, which 
were very important, and more numerous than in 
Italy, the Sorbonne, founded in 1520, was the first 
and most celebrated, equalling in fame the theologi¬ 
cal faculty, which appears to have gradually identified 
itself with it. 

The theological faculty of Paris was pre-eminently 
distinguished. It was first in rank, and in influence 
the most important. Its decisions, as we often note 
in history, were in request throughout Christendom 
even as late as A.D. 1631. 

The other French universities adopted for their or¬ 
ganization either that of Paris or that of Bologna 
as a model. 

Those of Spain have been mentioned in connexion 
with the Arabians. 

The English universities were constituted in imita¬ 
tion of that of Paris, yet so that the power of the 
professors and the dependance of the students were 
still greater. 


112 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


In Germany many universities were founded on the 
Parisian model. That of Prague, which was opened 
in A.D. 1348, was the first. Similar institutions soon 
sprang up in Sweden and in Denmark. 

From the very beginning, the student-life at these 
institutions was characterized by great frivolity, loose 
morality, lawless and riotous conduct. In the thir¬ 
teenth century this state of things had greatly in¬ 
creased, and only gradually did the influence of 
Christianity effect a partial reformation. 

SECTION 11. 

CHRISTIAN EDUCATION AMONG THE NATIONS OF WESTERN 
EUROPE. 

CHAPTER I. 

Domestic Life, and Religious Instruction of the Church. 

The power of Christianity to regenerate the human 
race has manifested itself in the life of individuals, of 
families, and of nations, through the transforming in¬ 
fluence which it exerts on the inner man. It has 
thus effected, and continues to effect for mankind 
what we can discover nowhere else. The sacredness 
of the marriage-union, and of the personal rights of 
man, is recognised among Christians, not only in 
theory, but in practice. The emancipation of woman, 
the sanctity of family-life in its proper sense, of which 
the ancients had scarcely any conception, and the abo¬ 
lition of slavery, have been introduced by our divine 
religion, and the great Head of the Church will more 
and more extend and glorify its influence among the 
nations of the earth. 

Domestic education thus belongs essentially to Chris¬ 
tianity : it is not only expressly enjoined as a duty; 
but as parents are to regard their child as the child of 
God, as their love to God sanctifies and exalts to the 
utmost their affection for their offspring, this domes¬ 
tic education has fully asserted its influence over the 
whole of human life. The spirit of love became the 
spirit of education, and is the only spirit capable of 
promoting the true culture of man. Governing the 


EDUCATION IN WESTERN EUROPE. 113 

father himself, it modified the severity of Jewish 
discipline and of the Roman patria potestas; but it 
inculcates the more strenuously that firmness and 
rigour, which are necessary not only to train the young 
to good habits, but to exercise them in self-denial, and 
to bring them to devote themselves to God. Through 
the influence of Christianity, the love of family, and 
kindred, and of country became more pure, and firm, 
and vigorous, and, extending its compass, became 
subservient to the love of the human race, to uni¬ 
versal philanthropy. Who does not admire the hero¬ 
ism of the first Christians, which they so often ex¬ 
hibited amid the terrors of martyrdom; while they 
were ready to sacrifice everything for that country 
which is above, and whose citizens they were, they 
were educated in the simplicity and purity of true 
virtue, and in genuine benevolence. 

The effect which Christianity produced on the social 
position of woman, claims our highest admiration and 
gratitude. A heathen sage once admiringly exclaimed, 
“ What women the Christians have among them!” 
From the earliest times of the Church, bright exam¬ 
ples of noble women, exemplary in every relation, as 
wives, as mothers, and as members of the community, 
abound. 

With this fundamental and thorough reformation of 
man himself, the regeneration of education, in respect 
of the community at large, although gradual and al¬ 
ways contending with obstacles, and for a time even 
interrupted by the corruptions of the Church, has been 
generally advancing down to our day. 

In the beginning the children of Christians received' 
their instruction partly in the existing schools and 
partly in the Church; the former being communicated 
by heathens, the latter both by the parents and the 
clergy. Religious instruction was mostly given by 
the clergy, sometimes also by laymen : the bishop add¬ 
ing that special instruction which preceded baptism. 
For the regulations respecting catechetical instruc¬ 
tion and catechumens, the reader is referred to eccle- 
sijistical history. 


K2 


114 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


The monastic institutions which arose at an early 
period of the Christian Church in Egypt, we mention 
here merely on account of their subsequent connex¬ 
ion with education. In early times the monks were 
faithful and zealous missionaries of the Gospel, and 
became instrumental in converting many European 
nations to Christianity, tn England, Scotland, and 
Ireland, and in various other countries, especially 
France and Germany, they preached the Gospel, in¬ 
structed the young, established schools, founded ex¬ 
tensive monastic institutions, which, by their libra¬ 
ries and other arrangements, sustained an important 
relation to the progress of Christianity, and the ad¬ 
vancement of education and general culture. It 
would lead us entirely too far to give anything like a 
detailed account of the gradual Christianization of 
Europe. Of the agencies and institutions employed 
in this work ; of the vicissitudes, and difficulties, and 
trials, and hardships, and triumphs of its agents ; of its 
general and beneficial effects on family, social, and pub¬ 
lic national life, peculiarly, and certainly not health¬ 
fully, modified by the superstitions and corruptions of 
papal Rome, the reader can obtain ample information 
in any extensive work on the history of the Chris¬ 
tian Church. We proceed to take a cursory view of 
the pedagogic literature and methods of this earlier 
period. 

CHAPTER II. 

Pedagogic Literature and Method, 

The seven liberal arts had become the basis of such 
scholastic instruction as went beyond the elements of 
reading, writing, and vocal music. Before we offer 
a brief account of that encyclopedic instruction, we 
shall notice the principal authors who promoted it by 
their writings. 

The most distinguished among these was Marcia- 
nus Mineus Felix Capella, a native of Madaura, in Af¬ 
rica, who, in his old age, published his schoolbook at 
Rome, A.D. 470. No book of this kind has ever en- 


EDUCATION IN WESTERN EUROPE. 115 

joyed a greater and more permanent celebrity than 
this: it remained about a thousand years the one 
great schoolbook of Western Europe. Its title is 
Satyricon, and it consists of nine books in prose and 
poetry: the first two compose the work, De Nuptiis 
Philologiae et Mercurii; the following seven are, De 
Septem Artibus Liberalibus Libri Singulares, in the 
following order: Grammatica, Dialectica, Rhetorica, 
Geometria, Arithmetica, Astronomia, Musica. It is 
written in bad Latin. 

Soon after him (about A.D. 500), Boethius, a Roman 
vir consularis (of consular rank), wrote a far more 
valuable schoolbook on three of these arts, so-called: 
1. De Arithmetica, in two books. 2. De Musica, in 
five books. 3. De Geometria, in two books. This 
work was, at the time, truly valuable in various re¬ 
spects. 

Not long after, Magnus Aurelius Cassiodorius, also 
a Roman of consular rank, who afterward became a 
monk, published a work, De Septem Disciplinis. It 
was a popular schoolbook. 

The celebrated Archbishop of Seville, in Spain, a 
zealous promoter of monachism (died A.D. G36), pub¬ 
lished a far more copious work, entitled Originum 
seu Etymologiarum Libri xx. : a sort of extended 
encyclopedia, treating of a great variety of subjects. 

The venerable Bede also published in England, 
about A.D. 700, a sort of encyclopedia, containing, 

1. Cunabula Grammatices, in questions and answers. 

2. De Octo Partibus Orationis. 3. De Arte Metrica. 
4. De Orthographia. 5. Several books treating of 
particular parts of arithmetic ; - and a number of other 
productions. 

And, lastly, the celebrated Rhabanus Maurus pub¬ 
lished a book, De Universo. 

Latin Grammar was studied in the West of Europe 
with no little difficulty, from Priscianus, Diomedes, 
and Donatus, until Alexander, a Franciscan monk, 
published (about 1230) his metrical Latin Grammar, 
entitled Doctrinale, by which the study was consider¬ 
ably facilitated. Vocabularies were gradually con¬ 
structed, chiefly from the Vulgata: for example, that 


II6 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


of Rhabanus Maurus. The Greek language was but 
little studied during this period. 

Dialectics were taught chiefly by collections of 
rules, until the study reached its culminating point at 
the University of Paris, under the scholastics. 

In rhetoric, Quintilian was superseded by Capella, 
Bede, and Alcuin, until, about the middle of the tenth 
century, the schoolmen returned to the writings of 
the master in this department, Cicero. 

In arithmetic, the operations were exceedingly im¬ 
perfect and clumsy until the celebrated Gerbert (Syl¬ 
vester II .) was led, by his love of learning, to leave 
his monastery, Fleury, and crossed the Pyrenees to 
Cordova, in order there to learn from the Arabians. 
He brought back with him the Arabian figures, and 
with them a new and far more easy method of cal¬ 
culation. 

Geometry was very imperfectly taught from a 
wretchedly meager abridgment of Euclid, until the 
same Gerbert gave a new impulse to this study, as 
he had done to arithmetic. In astronomy, nothing 
worth mentioning was accomplished, astrological su¬ 
perstitions being more in vogue than anything like 
scientific observation. 

To Gregory the Great belongs the merit of having, 
on the basis of the ancient tunes, completely introdu¬ 
ced sacred music among Christians, for the use of the 
ecclesiastical institutions and the schools, and for the 
purposes of public worship. Rome therefore became 
the principal seat of sacred music, especially vocal, 
but also instrumental; and this city was therefore 
much frequented by those who desired to learn thor¬ 
oughly this valuable art. Charlemagne imported 
singers from Rome, and introduced the improved 
church music, with the institutions necessary for its 
cultivation, in Metz. In England, also, a Roman sing¬ 
ing-school was established in the monastery of Were- 
mouth. 

Instrumental music was cultivated in monasteries, 
at the courts of princes, by knights, ladies, and itin¬ 
erant harpers; and the instruments mostly in use 
were the harp, the guitarj and the lute. 


EDUCATION IN WESTERN EUROPE. 117 

The other sciences were not studied in the schools. 
Little progress was made in geography. History 
consisted of little more than legends and chronicles, 
although Bede, who had opened a broader path, found 
some followers. Notwithstanding the host of the 
most absurd superstitions, and the prevailing faith in 
magic and black arts, there was some advancement 
made in physics: witness John Scotus and Albertus 
Magnus. Medicine was chiefly practised by the ec¬ 
clesiastics. It was more frequently studied with care 
by Jews, who often attained the station of court-phy¬ 
sician. By the Arabians a new impulse was given to 
the study of this science. 

At the University of Paris theology was treated in 
a scientific manner, the effect of which was not fa¬ 
vourable to the religious culture of the people. More 
salutary was the influence of the practice, which be¬ 
gan in the thirteenth century, of preaching in the ver¬ 
nacular language of Germany; and in the fourteenth 
century, the celebrated John Tauler laboured in Stras- 
burg, with great acceptance and effect, as a powerful 
pulpit-orator, and some of his writings are still read 
with profit. The most important, perhaps we ought 
to say the only, pedagogic writer of the Middle Ages 
was Vincentius de Beauvais, who flourished about the 
middle of the thirteenth century, under Loius IX. and 
his daughter Margaret. He published a copious en 
cyclopedia, entitled Speculum Majus. But more im¬ 
portant in the history of pedagogics is his work on 
the education of the children of kings, dedicated to 
Margaret of France. This work has sterling value, 
and, bating the monkish principles of the age, de¬ 
serves a place among the most recent productions on 
pedagogics. 


118 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


SECTION III. 

Education strives to become Free, and to liberate the Hu¬ 
man Mind from the mediceval Thraldom. The Gospel 
emancipated from Papal Bondage. From A.D. 1350- 
1520. 

The reader who is familiar with the period which is 
referred to at the head of this section, will be aware 
that any attempt to present a comprehensive view of 
its pedagogic history would lead us into extended 
discussions and almost endless details. Within its 
limits occur many and highly- honoured names: it 
embraces educational developments, and events in 
the Church and the state, of the utmost importance to 
the Christian culture of the human race. But, as it 
is our principal purpose here to give an account of 
Christian education in its more recent developments, 
in the more matured state in which it presents itself 
within the latest times, that is to say, since the la¬ 
bours of Lord Bacon, we shall offer no farther apol¬ 
ogy for the meager sketch which is here subjoined. 

Not only had Christianity now been fully introdu¬ 
ced among those European nations which had formed 
the W^estern Roman Empire, but the Gospel had been 
employed as the immediate means of civilizing others 
which had never bowed the neck under the Roman 
yoke, so that the Christian religion may be said to 
have, by this time, been the religion of Europe. But, 
although it was thus outwardly received, the nations 
of Europe were as yet far from having imbibed, or so 
much as adequately comprehended, its true spirit: its 
transforming power was yet far from having perva¬ 
ded and completely renovated the public, the social, 
the domestic, and private life of those nations who 
called themselves Christian. This was, of course, in 
a high degree, owing to the inherent corruption and 
depravity of human nature, which did not and could 
not immediately be made to harmonize with that 
“ perfect law of liberty.” Other causes, political and 
moral, and especially, also, the character and methods 


PROGRESS OF EDUCATION, A.D. 1350 - 1520 . 119 

of popular and (so-styled) learned education, combi¬ 
ned to obstruct the progress of Christianity in the 
hearts of men, in the life of nations. But this was 
not all, nor the worst. Christianity itself had come 
to the nations of Europe enveloped in the supersti¬ 
tions, burdened with the corruptions, bedizzened with 
the sumptuous trappings of papal Rome ; and the light 
of the Gospel was hid, if not under a bushel, under the 
triple crown of the pretended vicegerent of Christ. 
On this subject we need not expatiate ; it is, in general, 
well understood. All the institutions that had sprung 
up — monasteries, universities, popular schools — 
were involved in a night of ignorance, superstition, 
and semi-barbarism ; and those who set up for teach¬ 
ers and guides were little less blind than those whom 
they pretended to guide and instruct. Yet was the 
light of the Gospel not extinguished: it shone forth, 
here and there, in the words and lives of illustrious 
men, who glowed with a holy zeal for the glory of 
God, and the emancipation of men from the intellect¬ 
ual and spiritual' bondage which bowed them to the 
earth. If the occasional labours and public avowals 
of such men of God furnished evidence that the light 
of timth was yet present in the Church, and betokened 
its bursting forth, in due time, from the midnight 
clouds which encompassed it, there was one circum¬ 
stance which signally contributed to prepare men 
to hail with gratitude and joy that new and glorious 
day, by dispelling, in a great measure, the mists of 
ignorance ; by liberating, to a great extent, from the 
bondage of superstition, numbers whose influence 
would be widely felt; and by introducing at the uni¬ 
versities better things in the place of the dialectic 
games of the scholastics. We speak of the revival 
of classical studies which preceded the great revival 
of evangelical religion in the reformation of the six¬ 
teenth century. 

First in order of time among those who powerfully 
contributed to this revival of classical learning is the 
celebrated Petrarch, born Aug. 1, 1304, at Arezzo, in 
Italy. He was himself a truly eminent poet; and pro- 


120 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


foundly intimate with the Roman classics, and averse 
to scholasticism, he strenuously recommended a 
prompt return to the healthful fountains of antiquity. 
He therefore gave the first impulse to those classic¬ 
al studies which are so inseparably connected with 
the higher culture of modern times. 

Among the Italians, two other celebrated poets, Boc- 
cacio, the friend of Petrarch, and Dante, powerfully 
contributed to the revival of elegant literature. An 
important influence was exerted in the same direc¬ 
tion by another Italian scholar of great learning and 
genius, Vittorino da Feltre, who was eminently dis¬ 
tinguished as an educator of youth, whom he instruct¬ 
ed in the sciences, and initiated in the spirit of classic 
antiquity. In this path he was followed by other dis¬ 
tinguished men, especially Niccolo Niccoli, through 
whose exertions, and those of his pupils, Florence be¬ 
came the seat of classical learning under the splendid 
house of the Medici. 

In the Netherlands, a similar revival of liberal 
learning, embracing theology and philosophy, was 
developed under the guidance of gifted men. The 
most celebrated among these, the one whose influence 
was most extensive, was Erasmus of Rotterdam. His 
connexion with classical learning, his ambiguous po¬ 
sition in reference to the reformation, his friendly re¬ 
lations with some of the reformers, are matters of his¬ 
tory, and well known. 

Among the distinguished Germans who were prom¬ 
inently active in this great movement for the emanci¬ 
pation of human culture, none is more deservedly cel¬ 
ebrated than John Reuchlin, born at Pforzheim, in Ba¬ 
den, Dec. 28, 1445. His exertions for promoting the 
study of the Greek language were specially impor¬ 
tant, and, to some extent, eminently successful. 

Highly distinguished in this connexion were John 
Colet, an Englishman, and the intimate friend of 
Erasmus; and Luis Vives, a Spaniard. The school 
(St. Paul’s School) which the former, as Dean of St. 
Paul’s, founded in London, still flourishes, and enjoys 
a high reputation. The latter was the author of some 


PROGRESS OP EDUCATION, A.D. 1350-1520. 121 


important works on pedagogics and educational meth¬ 
ods, and many of his rules have been placed to the 
credit of modern writers on these subjects. 

The impulse which the labours of such men had 
given to the culture of Europe was very extensively 
felt, and productive of highly beneficial etfects : it had 
commenced the emancipation of the human mind 
from the shackles of scholasticism, and the overthrow 
of monastic dungeons. But the restoration of classic¬ 
al studies could not remedy the evils under which so¬ 
ciety groaned, could not regenerate that public life 
which was thoroughly corrupt in all its institutions. 
The liberty of the mind is a gift of Heaven, and be¬ 
longs to the destination of our race. But no classic¬ 
al studies could achieve that liberty which harmo¬ 
nizes with law, and practises self-government and 
self-denial. This could come only by restoring to 
the pure Gospel of Christ, that “ power of God,” its 
due influence on society, in all its classes and rela¬ 
tions. “ If the Son shall make you free, ye shall be 
free indeed.” This truth was felt by many of those 
enlightened men, so that there arose an increased ten¬ 
dency to return to apostolical Christianity. There 
were many among the people, also, who felt this, and 
to whom the corruptions of the Church became daily 
more intolerable. 

And that great change, for which there had thus 
been some preparation, now came, in all its power 
and glory, in the reformatio'n of the sixteenth cen¬ 
tury. 

On the labours of the reformers for the regenera¬ 
tion of human culture, we shall not dwell. They 
must be familiar to most of our readers. Through 
their influence, not only the Church, but the entire sys¬ 
tem of education, experienced a reformation. New 
schools were founded, old ones thoroughly remodel¬ 
led, and real, efficient schoolmen, of sound principles 
and large views, took the lead, especially in Germany, 
in the business of education. The most distinguish¬ 
ed among the schoolmen of the age immediately suc¬ 
ceeding the reformation were Johannes Sturm and 


122 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


Valentine Friedland, commonly called Trotzendorf, 
from the place of his nativity. Other great names 
might be mentioned, besides a long list of learned 
philologists, who contributed, in the capacity of pro¬ 
fessors and of authors, to the complete revival of 
liberal education. It must, however, be observed, 
that the labours of these men had reference, chiefly, 
to the higher seminaries of learning. 

Thus, towards the end of the sixteenth century, the 
new culture had completely established itself in Ger¬ 
many, France, the Netherlands, and other countries 
of Western Europe. The classic literature was the 
cultivating principle, and with this the Reformation 
formed an intimate alliance. The Protestant teachers 
too well appreciated the high aim which the mind, 
imbued with the Grecian and Roman literature, at¬ 
tains, that they should not have made it the principal 
subject of the instruction of youth. Those school¬ 
men should not, therefore, be blamed, if they were too 
partially devoted to this one subject. Their labours 
hastened the coming of that day, in which profound 
reflection, and a comprehensive, experimental devel¬ 
opment of principles led to the adoption of an en¬ 
larged, and liberal, and sound method, embracing ev¬ 
ery department of the culture of man. 

It is well known that this revival of education, 
produced by the reformation, aroused also the Cath¬ 
olic Church to adopt, in sheer self-defence, an en¬ 
larged and improved system, and that soon the 
Jesuits became the educators of the Roman Cath¬ 
olic world. The excellence of their educational sys¬ 
tem, and especially of their methods of instruction, 
even their enemies can scarcely call in question ; yet 
their pedagogics had great defects, and their general 
mischievous purposes were betrayed, to a great ex¬ 
tent, in their labours as educators. 

During the Middle Ages, for centuries before the 
Reformation, the student-life had been, as we have in 
some measure seen, one of wanton indulgence in er¬ 
ratic propensities, of confusion, and riot. The teach- 


PROGRESS OF EDUCATION, A.D. 1350 - 1520 . 123 

ers of schools, both in city and country, were, for 
the most part, itinerant students, who, either having 
some other personal interest in view, or receiving a 
very scanty compensation for their labours, either 
neglected their business, or, rude in manners, tyran¬ 
nized over their pupils, or disagreed, in one way or 
another, with their employers, so that little was ef¬ 
fected, and things perpetually grew worse; or, if 
men of letters and principle undertook the office of 
teacher, they were often treated with ingratitude and 
contumely, so that those who were fit to teach had no 
inducements to devote themselves to so thankless a 
business. But since the emancipation of education¬ 
al culture, down to the beginning of the seventeenth 
century, many improvements had been made, and a 
better order of things had supervened. There were 
public schools of different kinds, higher and lower, 
both in cities and in the country; and here and there, 
also, female seminaries. Besides these, a variety of 
other arrangements and institutions for the purposes 
of education grew into vogue, all which introduced a 
time of inquiry and reflection, in which men could 
select, from a multitude of methods, those which 
seemed best, form various combinations, and strike 
out new paths. The importance of the business of 
education was more and more understood and felt. 

As regards the subjects of instruction, these had 
become more and more extended, and undergone 
various changes with the developments of the times. 
The following sketch follows the order of the ancient 
encyclopedia. 

Grammar was taught in the old fashion; but, after 
the art of writing had been introduced in the city- 
schools, and especially after the press had more and 
more separated it from instniction in reading, this 
study was treated as a distinct branch, and now the 
children were taught to spell and to read by means of 
printed primers. 

In teaching children to write, the ancient tricks of 
stenography and the like were abandoned, and due 
attention was paid to a good current hand. In arith- 


124 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


metic a more suitable method was adopted, and, at 
the same time, its higher departments were more 
cultivated. 

In geometry the instruction was wretched, as un¬ 
methodical as possible, so that very few acquired any 
knowledge of it. Geography and history were treated 
as distinct branches of study in the schools of the 
Jesuits: they were introduced elsewhere, for the 
first time, by a pupil of Trotzendorf, between 1530 
and 1543, in the school at Sorau. Astronomy had 
been abandoned by the schools; but astrology and 
alchymy continued to be, even in the sixteenth cen¬ 
tury, the favourite study of deep thinkers. 

Mnemonics was very generally cultivated at this 
period in Italy, and secretly, also, in the monasteries. 

A new and highly important addition had been 
made in religious instruction. With a view to this, 
the reformers, or, rather, the great reformer himself, 
had drawn up and introduced the catechism; and, 
lastly, the progress of culture to greater freedom 
became manifest in the reference which school- 
instruction had to the common affairs of life. Since 
the appearance of Reynard the Fox, the Germans 
had cultivated the department of literature to which 
this admirable poem belongs, and been eminently 
successful in the production of instructive fables; 
and the young were now made acquainted with the 
well-known collection of ^Esopian fables. If these 
productions were not actually used in the schools, 
they were collected in books, and extensively circu¬ 
lated among the young. 

SECTION IV. 

Methodic Pedagogists and their Labours. 

This new spring which had arisen on the culture 
of Christendom was broken in upon by dark and por¬ 
tentous clouds ; peace and war alternated in various 
parts, but especially in the centre of Europe, until the 
fearful storm of the Thirty Years’ War devastated 
the states of Germany. The effects of this coimd— 


METHODIC PEDAGOGISTS. 


125 


sion on the culture and the educational institutions of 
central Euurope are easily imagined: yet these evil 
consequences were not as extensive as might have 
been expected. Something still continued to be done 
for education; and some sections of Germany, which 
had almost entirely escaped the general devastation, 
had not ceased to offer asylums to the sciences. 
The interest which had been excited for the culture 
of man had not expired ; and when, in 1648, the peace 
of Westphalia restored repose to Germany, and secu¬ 
rity to the Protestant Church, the business of educa¬ 
tion was resumed with unabated zeal and energy. 

Since then, the culture of man, which had itself been 
emancipated from oppressive bondage, tended to the 
complete liberation of the human mind from all ex¬ 
traneous fetters. It first exhibited this tendency in 
its opposition, to ancient usages in education; against 
practices which had nothing but their age to recom¬ 
mend them; for, soon after the culture of Christian 
nations had been thus emancipated from thraldom, 
education became the subject of enlightened and pro¬ 
found reflection, and the judgment of men respecting 
it shook off the prejudices, the bias of ages. The en¬ 
ergies of the learned and wise were directed to the 
detection of errors and defects, to the rejection of 
much that was timeworn and superannuated, and to 
attempts at improvement. New methods were de¬ 
vised, and systems of education constructed; but there 
was, in general, more of criticism, more subversion of 
individual practices that were deemed objectionable, 
than of judicious effort at organization and construc¬ 
tion. Yet men were now coming to these better ef¬ 
forts. The first part of the period now before us is 
therefore characterized by inquiries and experiments, 
and by critical reflection on the idea of education; to 
the second part will belong the complete develop¬ 
ment, and introduction into theory, instruction, and 
life, of this idea. We can scarcely be said to have 
advanced beyond the threshold of this second division 
of the period under consideration, and we have there¬ 
fore reached the last epoch of our pedagogic history, 
L2 


126 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


in which we have three sections: the first, as stated 
above, treating of experiments in new methods ; the 
second exhibiting new views on education; and the 
third presenting efforts at combining education and in¬ 
struction, and thus, also, at reforming public schools. 

Innovations as respects method consisted, in the 
first place, in alterations made in the ancient encyclo- 
pedism, and in general, in the mode of treating the 
sciences. And the first who distinguished himself in 
this path was the celebrated Lord Bacon, lord privy 
seal and chancellor of England, who was born A.D. 
1560, and died in 1626. He was one of the most 
learned among men, and his acute mind clearly dis¬ 
cerned the defects which burdened the learned culture 
of his, and of past times. He complained that too 
much attention was devoted to languages, and that, 
meanwhile, practical matters, important to human 
life, were entirely neglected ; that philosophy, instead 
of seeking after truth, had fallen into the mischievous 
nonsense of scholasticism; that teachers followed 
imdeviatingly the old and beaten path, while pupils 
bowed in slavish submission to the authority of their 
teachers; that, nevertheless, it was common to form 
hasty opinions and rash judgments; that the scholar 
did not sufficiently confine himself to some particular 
branch of science, and usually had not the proper aim 
in view, inasmuch as either vanity, or self-interest, or, 
at best, a love of amusement, was generally the mo¬ 
tive. These and other like complaints were loudly 
raised by Bacon; and in opposition to all this, he 
propounded his own positive idea of improvement, of 
a thorough reform. This he did especially in his No¬ 
vum Organum Scientiarum, which sets out with the 
principle that man is to be only the servant of nature, 
both in knowledge and action. In this great work he 
presented a new division of the sciences, arranged 
under the three principal intellectual faculties, mem¬ 
ory, imagination, and reason. Although in his ency¬ 
clopedic view there was yet much left to be desired, 
it yet created, as it were, new sciences ; and, what is 
more, it roused a new spirit, which brought forth new 


METHODIC PEDAGOGISTS. 


127 


tliought, and which, while it produced a complete rev¬ 
olution in academic lectures, and in all matters of 
science as treated in the schools, yet tended too 
much to empty abstractions. As it was his funda¬ 
mental idea that in a perfect system nature itself 
would appear, and that, therefore, the classification of 
the sciences, and the process of their acquisition, 
would coincide, he yet also considered adaptation to 
nature as involving the necessity of paying due at¬ 
tention to the progressive development of the child, 
and to the principles of psychology: and thus he de¬ 
cidedly distinguished a twofold course of instruction, 
the scientific and the pedagogic; and from this he 
developed his principles of education, which coinci¬ 
ded, in general, with those of the Jesuits. The work 
in which these principles are exhibited is entitled, 
“ De Dignitate et Augmentis Scientiarum,” and is one 
of the most important in the history and progress of 
pedagogics. 

In Germany there soon arose men who ardently 
desired the introduction of a complete pedagogic 
method, and who were zealous advocates of the cul¬ 
tivation and improvement of the language of their 
country, which had so long been supplanted, in mat¬ 
ters of science and literature, by the Latin. The first 
among these men was Wolfgang Ratich, born 1570, 
at Wilster, in Holstein. The universal complaints 
about the great defects of the school-instruction of 
his day stimulated him to the attempt to introduce a 
better metho 1 : and with a view to prepare himself 
for this undertaking, he visited Holland, and England, 
and other countries, spending thirteen years in these 
travels. He commenced his operations in his thirty- 
second year, found favour in various high quarters, 
and excited a great deal of attention wherever he ap¬ 
peared. He had, undoubtedly, many correct views, 
and manifested a good deal of skill in the application 
of his principles ; but a great mistake was made, in 
that his method was employed only in instructing 
adults. He was not entirely free from charlatanry; 
and being,' withal, of a quarrelsome disposition, and 


128 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


totally destitute of judgment and tact in managing his 
assistants, he soon fell into disgrace, met with oppo¬ 
sition everywhere, and died, abandoned by nearly all 
his former friends, in 1635, as a pedagogic adventurer. 
He was soon so utterly forgotten, that his age has, 
and no doubt justly, been accused of having been 
rather ungrateflil towards him ; for, a century and a 
half later, other pedagogists met with far better suc¬ 
cess, with methods much like his; and he may be 
regarded as the founder of the modern didactics, or 
art of instruction, as appears from his numerous wri¬ 
tings. 

The next pedagogjst of importance was Chris¬ 
topher Helwig, born 1581, near Frankfort on the 
Mayne, and professor at Giessen. He was a man 
from whom much w’-as to be expected for education, 
but, in consequence of excessive exertion, he died at 
an early age, and before his views and plans could be 
fairly tested. 

After him, Amos Comenius, of Comna, in Moravia, 
born 1592, was highly distinguished in the business of 
education, on which he entered in early life. After 
encountering various vicissitudes and severe trials, he 
went to Lissa, in Poland, where he soon after became 
president of the school in that place, and bishop of the 
Moravian brethren, in the early history of whose pe¬ 
culiar pedagogic system he shines as a star of the 
first magnitude. He now wrote his great work, one 
of the most important in the history of pedagogics, 
which, as the title indicates, was to unlock the door 
for the acquisition of all languages: “ Janua Reserata 
Linguarum,” &c. 

Comenius was about thirty-five years of age when 
he came to Lissa. His work soon carried his fame 
to foreign lands, and everywhere the necessity of a 
reform in education began to be more deeply felt, and 
first of all in England. By an act of Parliament, this 
worthy man was, in 1631, invited to England, and re¬ 
ceived with every mark of respect in London. His 
ideas would probably have been realized in that 
country, had not disturbances in Ireland interrupted, 


METHODIC PEDAGOGISTS. 


129 


and eventually altogether suspended the meditated 
reform; and even to this day England has not organ¬ 
ized a public system of school-education. 

Comenius now laboured in Sweden, where he was 
again interrupted by war, which induced him to re¬ 
turn to Lissa. From here the Prince of Transylvania 
called him to Patak, in order to organize the college 
which was established there; and during four years 
he here prosecuted his efforts in behalf of education 
with considerable success, and wrote, among other 
works, his celebrated Orbis Pictus, which has passed 
through a great many editions, and survived a multi¬ 
tude of imitations. He now returned to Lissa, where 
he enjoyed a few years of repose in his episcopal 
office. But the disturbances which broke out in 1656, 
between the Moravian Protestants and the Polish 
Catholics, brought upon him various misfortunes : his 
house, his library, and, worst of all, his manuscripts, 
the labour of ten years, were consumed by fire. Hav¬ 
ing found an asylum in Amsterdam, he reproduced his 
pedagogic works, which from 1657 appeared in print. 
But he suffered many persecutions on account of his 
faith; for he was a man of deep piety, although his lux¬ 
uriant imagination led him to the adoption of some ex¬ 
travagant notions. He died at Amsterdam in 1671, at 
the age of eighty, after an eventful life. The great 
idea by which this life was animated was the promo¬ 
tion of the happiness of the whole human race by 
education, and the adoption of methodical instruction 
from earliest childhood. This idea was exj)ressed in 
his writings with all the clearness and completeness 
that could be expected in that age, and all his efforts 
were directed against the indolent trifling of existing 
methods, and the realization of his better views ; and 
the influence of his writings and labours is more or 
less visible in the educational arrangements of our 
day. The labours of Comenius may be called the 
clear and distinct expression of a state of public sen¬ 
timent, which was a necessary phenomenon in the de¬ 
velopment of European education. It is only when 
brought into connexion with Bacon’s psychological 


130 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


views on the one hand, and the modern pedagogic 
views on the other, that they are duly appreciated. 
The triad comprises the whole of what the age of 
new and improved methods brought forth respecting 
the idea of education. Subsequent efforts consist only 
in controversy, in farther improvements, and in finish¬ 
ing touches. 

This combination appears first in the educational 
views and principles of Montaigne and of Locke. 

1. Michel E. de Montaigne was born 1533, at Per- 
igord, and died 1592. His father, who had peculiar 
and sound views on education, and was deeply sensi¬ 
ble of the great defects of the prevailing methods of 
instruction, gave his son, in early childhood, a German 
tutor, who educated his pupil in a manner very differ¬ 
ent from that generally in vogue. Montaigne wrote 
a book of essays, abounding in moral and religious 
reflections, and which, though altogether deficient in 
respect of the religious elemen^contain many valua¬ 
ble thoughts on pedagogics. But we cannot present 
even an abstract of his views on education, as our 
limits admonish us to hasten to a more important wri¬ 
ter. The writings of Montaigne were productive of 
fruit out of his own country. His principles were 
first made use of in England, for the development of 
a system of education that has become the most im¬ 
portant, by one of the most eminent philosophers and 
most cultivated men of his age. 

2 . This man was John Locke, who was born in 
1632. He was sent to the Westminster school, under 
whose vigorous discipline he remained till his nine¬ 
teenth year. After he had spent some time on the 
Continent, and afterward continued his studies at Ox¬ 
ford, he experienced various reverses of fortune, 
which grew out of his connexion with Lord Shaftes¬ 
bury, who was his warm friend and benefactor. Hav¬ 
ing returned, in 1689, to England, which he had been 
more than once obliged to leave, he declined the pub¬ 
lic employments that were offered him, and took up 
his abode in a family of noble friends in Essex. Here 
he wrote several political treatises, and also his im- 


METHODIC PEDAGOGISTS. 


131 


portant pedagogic work, which appeared in 1693, in 
the form of letters to his friend Clarke, and under the 
title. Thoughts Concerning the Education of Chil¬ 
dren. In the following year appeared his celebrated 
Essay on the Human Understanding, which work also 
imbodies the spirit of his views on education. His 
peculiar views made Locke a welcome teacher to the 
new pedagogic spirit, which desired to confine its at¬ 
tention to the sphere of common life, and to reject as 
fanaticism all elevation to ideals. Yet in this re¬ 
spect hi§ pedagogic principles have been very much 
misapprehended. Locke died as a true Christian, in 
the midst of the study of the Bible, A.D. 1704, and at 
the age of seventy-two years. His book on educa¬ 
tion begins with the principle, Sana mens in corpore 
sano : a healthy soul (mind) in a healthy body. Thus 
this principle of the ancients, which especially the 
legislation of Lycurgus had so distinctly avowed, was 
again expressly recommended by Locke to modern 
educators. Of his pedagogic views we present the 
following summary: 

1. Physical education. He recommends rather too 
decidedly that children should be made hardy. 

H. In cultivating the mind, habit, in respect of the 
desires or appetites, is of paramount importance.* 

HI. He protests against the abuse of corporeal 
punishments and of rewards, and inculcates liberal, 
but not lax principles. He warns against the influ¬ 
ence of domestics. 

IV. Children should have but few rules given them, 
but the observance of these should be insisted on and 
enforced. It is best if their own habits lead them to 
the discovery of rules and laws. The child should be 
kindly treated, and in accordance with its individuali¬ 
ty. All affectation is to be guarded against, and a 
natural and beautiful development of the inner man to 
be promoted. 

V. For the acquisition of good manners he recom¬ 
mends the dancing-master and the example of good 
society, but protests against children being required 
to conform to conventional forms. 


132 


HISTORY OP EDUCATION. 


VI. He strongly urges the advantages of domestic 
education. In schools, good manners are too much 
sacrificed to Latin and Greek. He disapproves of 
boarding-schools, both on account of the numbers that 
frequent them, and for other reasons. 

VII. In respect of pardonable and punishable faults 
of the young, and their general treatment, his views 
are liberal, and generally sound; but some are deci¬ 
dedly erroneous, and have been productive of mis¬ 
chief. Towards children who are too lazy to learn, 
he is rather too liberal of blows. 

VIII. A governor or private tutor should possess 
knowledge of the world and refined manners. If he 
be a man of talent, his instructions will soon enable 
the boy to help himself. 

IX. Confidence between parents and children, in 
their mutual intercourse, is strongly recommended. 

X. The love of ruling, and selfishness, should be 
suppressed in children: covetousness should not be 
encouraged : their real wants should be provided for: 
they should be habituated to modesty, and their com¬ 
plaints against others not always listened to; consci¬ 
entious honesty, and, at the same time, liberality in 
giving, should be encouraged in them. 

XI. The screaming and crying of children should 

be prevented. ^ 

XH. Both fear and courage are good; but effem¬ 
inacy and extremes must be guarded against. 

XIII. Children should not be suffered to be cru¬ 
el towards animals, and kindness towards servants 
should be inculcated. 

XIV. As respects the desire of knowledge and in¬ 
dolent inattention, his observations are less profound 
than those of later writers. 

XV. Children should not receive too many toys, 
and, in general, be induced to make them themselves. 

XVI. Children must learn to regard lying as un¬ 
natural and detestable. 

XVII. Religion and virtue should be promoted by 
simple views, which may be occasionally communi¬ 
cated. At the same time, the child should be taught 


MODERN EDUCATION. 


133 


to pray, to speak the truth, and to exercise love to¬ 
wards all. They should never hear a word about 
ghosts. 

XVIII. The child should be taught to be prudent, 
but not cunning. 

XIX. The outward deportment of children should 
be equally remote from impudence or presumption, 
and awkwardness. 

XX. As respects the method of instruction, his 
views are, in general, very correct, and many of his 
rules exceedingly judicious and valuable. Some of 
them have been much misapprehended and misappli¬ 
ed. He considers the desire of applause and praise 
as the strongest motive to urge the young to strive 
after perfection. If it be the strongest, it would be a 
monstrous pedagogic error to regard it as the best. 

At the close, Locke acknowledges the defects of his 
work, and admits that much remains to be determined 
according to the individual peculiarities of children. 
Would that the German pedagogists of his school had 
always borne in mind this modest and candid admis¬ 
sion of their great master! 

SECTION V. 

Modern Development of the Idea of Education. 

We have seen that earnest inquiry and diligent 
search after improvements in the culture of youth, 
and especially with respect to the method of instruc¬ 
tion, had been awakened, and the efforts that were 
made promised great results : but these promises 
were not fulfilled. Had the classics been studied in 
the right spirit, and the Gospel appreciated and im¬ 
proved as it oi^ght to be, the result would have been 
different: but this was not done. The fundamental 
principle of human culture had not even been, »as 
yet, clearly apprehended, to say nothing of its being 
brought into connexion with the increase of knowl¬ 
edge. If there had not been an actual retrograde 
movement, it is yet certain that the root of culture, 
religion, and the sweet odour of its developed blossom. 


134 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


taste, had, notwithstanding the evident increase of 
knowledge, rather retrograded than advanced. The 
evidence of this is found in the controversies of the 
theologians and of the philologists in the seventeenth 
century, and even later. 

The malady of vanity and self-conceit, the most 
pernicious to men of learning, appeared in a new, at 
one time offensive, at another, ridiculous form— 
namely, pedantry. Schoolmen, principals of semi¬ 
naries, became the laughing-stock of the public, and 
pedagogues and pedants were held up to ridicule on 
the stage; and thus even men of genuine scholarship 
and sterling worth were involvec^ in the common 
contempt. Such men strove earnestly to call forth a 
better state of things, and to promote a spirited and 
tasteful study of the classics. But such a change re¬ 
quires time, and the proper study of the classics did 
not make much progress. In f ranee and elsewhere 
it even met with opponents, among whom Perrault 
was the most prominent. His opinions were contro¬ 
verted by Boileau. 

In England, as witnessed by Swift’s “Battle of 
Books,” and in Germany, these controversies respect¬ 
ing the comparative merits of the ancients and mod¬ 
erns were also prosecuted. 

If the good cause always does triumph in the end, 
it is often long enough persecuted and desecrated by 
the mob, the profanum vulgus. And thus classical 
studies w^^ere indeed extolled in France, England, 
Germany, and elsewhere, as the fountain of taste, and 
even better taught in the schools ; yet by many they 
WTre still viewed in a false light, or clumsily treated 
by pedants, and abused, even down to the latest times, 
by impure worshippers, to the still greater perversion 
of inflated boys. 

In France, the false taste went hand in hand wdth 
irreligion, with infidelity, and brought forth idols to 
suit the popular spirit. A principle of disruption per¬ 
vaded the culture of Europe, and purged away, as 
men fondly believed, a great deal of dross, and only 
about the end of the eighteenth century the loss of 


MODERN EDUCATION. 


135 


the good was felt; but this principle contained also a 
stimulating power to excite reaction. Men, highly 
and thoroughly cultivated by the classic spirit, soon 
stood forth, prominent and illustrious, in England, 
although in the colleges the ancient pedantry still 
practised its antics. In other countries, also, sound 
philologists arose. Germany especially now became 
the great arena for the enactment of all sorts of liter¬ 
ary and pedagogic manoeuvres. German industry, 
combined with great susceptibility of culture and 
depth of feeling, did indeed possess itself of all the 
treasures of foreign culture; but it strayed also too 
far ink) the stern asperities of controversy respecting 
matters unworthy of serious consideration, and neg¬ 
lected too much that Socratic irony, which should 
always distinguish the more eminent scholars. 

In the past arrangements of the Church and the 
scholastic system, the mind had gained too little in 
true piety, although efforts had not been wanting in 
this respect, also, to improve the schools. While the 
theologians were addicted to controversy, religious 
instruction was, for the most part, left to unlettered 
schoolmasters, or treated by clergymen in a lifeless 
or even controversial manner. It was high time that 
something should be done on all hands for education 
in this most important concern. And now, in the prov¬ 
idence of God, two men appeared, the one a Protest¬ 
ant, the other a Catholic, in whom the spirit of the 
Gospel was alive and operative, and whose names are 
illustrious in the history of education. 

The first was Philip J. Spener, born at Rappolt- 
sweiler, in the Alsace, in 1635. He was distinguish¬ 
ed from his early youth, not only for his ardent love 
of knowledge, but for his fervent piety. Having fin¬ 
ished his academic studies, and spent some time in 
travel, he became preacher and doctor of theology at 
Strasburg, and soon after, in 1666, he accepted a call 
as Senior, to Frankfurt on the Mayne, where his 
kindly but vigorous activity produced great effects. 
He contended against the prevailing spirit of contro- 


136 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


versy, and by his mild but energetic labours effected 
an extensive revival of evangelical religion in Ger¬ 
many. Denounced as a mystic, he persevered in his 
course, and became the founder, by his example and 
through his writings, of the German system of cate¬ 
chetical instruction. His influence for good was great 
and deep. He died in the triumphs of Christian faith, 
in 1705, at Berlin. 

The other benefactor of his race was the celebra¬ 
ted Francois Salignac de la Motte Fenelon, born 1651, 
at Perigord. He was a man whose extraordinary ex¬ 
cellence of character extorted admiration even from 
the infidel Voltaire. His little pedagogic work, De 
I’Education des Filles, induced Louis XIV. to appoint 
him tutor to his three princes. For their benefit he 
wrote the universally known work entitled Tele- 
maque. Though this eventually brought him into 
disgrace at court, and exiled him to his diocese, he 
was in no wise disturbed, but pursued, through good 
and through evil report, the even tenour of his benevo¬ 
lent, his truly Christian life, and died at the age of 
sixty-three years. His two pedagogic works still con¬ 
tinue to exert a healthful influence. 

But the most important attempt to supply a want 
universally felt, by the establishment of a truly Chris¬ 
tian school, was now at hand, and two men arose 
whose efforts in behalf of Christian education de¬ 
serve our most grateful acknowledgments. 

1. Augustus Hermann Franke, born 1663, at Lubec, 
was distinguished at an early age for deep piety and 
a vigorous spirit of enterprise. By his zealous efforts 
to promote vital piety, he accomplished much good in 
various places as a preacher of the Gospel, made 
many friends, and raised up troops of enemies. 

After preaching some time at Erfurt, he accepted 
an invitation to the newly-founded university of Halle 
as preacher, and professor of the Greek and Oriental 
languages, and afterward of theology. 

The religious influence which he exerted in this 
place was productive of deep and abiding results. 
But the great work which he accomplished here was 


MODERN EDUCATION. 


137 


the establishment of the far-famed asylum and school 
for orphans, which he succeeded in erecting, amid 
innumerable difficulties. Yet, notwithstanding he of¬ 
ten lacked means, which were as often providentially 
supplied, the work went forward rapidly : the founda¬ 
tions were laid in 1698, and as early as 1700 the large 
building was already occupied. The establishment 
consisted of a number of connected institutions, not 
only for orphan boys and girls, but for poor students : 
the paedagogium regium ; a seminaiy for teachers and 
educators; a collegium orientale ; one of the most 
extensive book and printing establishments, an apoth¬ 
ecary’s office, and other benevolent and highly useful 
institutions, all founded, sustained, and more and more 
perfected by this one man. The institution soon 
numbered among its beneficiaries two hundred or¬ 
phans : sometimes nearly two thousand pupils receiv¬ 
ed instruction here at a time: in the higher schools 
alone there were sometimes five hundred students 
and one hundred teachers, who here trained them¬ 
selves for the business of instruction. Franke died 
in 1727, aged sixty-four, and his institution contin¬ 
ued, after his death, to flourish amid frequent storms. 
But the spirit which had directed its affairs at the be¬ 
ginning, departed with subsequent developments of 
the age. However great and beneficial had been the 
influence of Franke and of his institution, which was 
the first orphan asylum in Germany, and in w'hich ed¬ 
ucation was treated on a truly Christian plan^ though in 
a manner too contracted and one-sided, neither the 
culture of youth nor the cultivation of piety contin¬ 
ued to advance and prosper to the extent desired by 
the wise and good ; and a desire universally prevailed 
that good schools might be established, that education 
might he brought into jit connexion with instmction, and 
that thus religious culture might be brought into closer 
union with the scientijic and classic culture of youth. If 
this was the object which Franke had aimed at, it 
was, to a far greater extent, attained by the distin¬ 
guished personage of whom we are now to speak. 

2. The idea of a culture of man proceeding from a 
M2 


138 


HISTORY OP EDUCATION. 


religious centre, or of education on a Christian basis, 
was first distinctly seized upon by a man of Franke’s 
school, who, with a profound apprehension of the dis¬ 
tinctive peculiarities of Christianity, sought to devel¬ 
op and realize this idea with greater consistency. 
This man was Count Nicholas L. de Zinzendorf, who 
had received his school-education in Franke’s paeda- 
gogium regium at Halle, and whose mind was so 
deeply affected and penetrated by the Christian spirit 
that prevailed there, that he conceived, with striking 
clearness, his great idea, and, through the energy of 
his character, and the wealth which he possessed, 
succeeded to admiration in giving it a real and tangi¬ 
ble existence. He founded at Herrnhuth, in Saxony, 
the religious society known as the Church of the 
United, or Moravian Brethren, which soon sent out 
branches, not only throughout Germany, but to the 
remotest parts of the world. And thus the spirit of 
vital piety was once again revived, and various edify¬ 
ing developments were witnessed in different places. 
Zinzendorf’s idea was, a sodality, or association of 
like-minded Christians, which, even in their external 
organization and arrangements, should fully express 
the spirit of their faith ; a Protestant-Christian Pytha- 
goraeism, far more elevated and pure than the monas¬ 
tic institutions of earlier times, and exhibiting, in 
every respect, its great superiority to the institutions 
of the Jesuits; for the Brethren’s Church tended 
more to the inward life, to the repose of the soul, and 
to external tranquillity, and thus came but little into 
collision with the state; while the Jesuits aimed at 
an external life of their religious society, which 
brought even states into peril. Education in the 
Brethren’s Church was more complete, because it 
took up and treated the child from its earliest exist¬ 
ence, and embraced also the family relation : the cul¬ 
ture of the Jesuits, so far as it was good, was purely 
scholastic ; in other respects, political, moral, and re¬ 
ligious, their influence was evil, and tended to evil. 

The institutions of education at Barby, Neuvvied, 
Niesky, Hennersdorf, Montmirail, &c., manifest this 


THE NEW PEDAGOGICS. 


139 


spirit to the present day, and a number of the most 
distinguished men in Germany, among whom are 
some celebrated philosophers, owe to these institu¬ 
tions their earlier culture.* The pedagogic principles 
and arrangements, notwithstanding their general ex¬ 
cellence, could not deny their one-sidedness, and 
have, through the influence of the later pedagogics, 
undergone various improvements. The great princi¬ 
ple of this system is, to make Christianity, in its 
most definite and positive form, that of true inward 
piety, the principle of education, as well as of the 
whole life. Both the negative and positive arrange¬ 
ments adopted for the attainment of this object, and 
the general discipline of these institutions, have, in 
the main, been well adapted to the end in view; and 
although the general character of these institutions 
has doubtless undergone considerable changes with 
the alterations in the spirit of the times, they must 
still be ranked among the best and most efficient, 
both as regards scholastic instruction and general 
education, that modern times have produced. 

These, then, were the attempts at improving educa¬ 
tion from a decidedly religious point of influence and 
operation. But the spirit of the age pressed forward 
more strenuously in a different direction, and thus 
arose the new pedagogics. 

SECTION VI. 

THE NEW PEDAGOGICS. 

Thus men sought and hoped for improvements, and 
had dim and remote views of what was wanting; vari¬ 
ous good things were brought to light, but still the 
right thing was not yet found. The school of Halle 
and the Moravian Church had opened up a new path 
for the culture of youth; but here also there were de- 

* The Moravians have similar institutions in this country: a boarding- 
school for boys at Nazareth, and female boarding-schools at Bethlehem and 
at Litiz, in Pennsylvania, and another at Salem, in North Carolina. The 
first two were established about the middle of the last centuiy. These 
schools have a deservedly high reputation, and are in a nourishing con- 
ditioo. 


140 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


vious movements, and the great goal was yet far from 
being distinctly in sight. But the demands of the age 
were pressing, not only for improvements in the nar¬ 
row circle of existing schools, but for elRcient insti¬ 
tutions for the education and culture of the people at 
large. The defects in the prevailiirg state of things 
were many and great, and were, by many, deeply felt. 
Religion especially was too much a matter of mere 
doctrinal belief and of lifeless forms, as though Chris¬ 
tianity were not designed to influence and mould the 
whole life of man, and to manifest its divine power to 
sanctify, in all his relations and circumstances. The¬ 
ological controversies were the order of the day; and 
so deficient were the great majority of schools, wheth¬ 
er high or low; so little, in general, were the instruc¬ 
tion and example of teachers in accordance with the 
precepts, the spirit, the great design of the Gospel, 
that the earnest complaints of wise and good men 
were growing louder and louder. Among these was 
that eminent man of God, Spener. From among his 
many bitter lamentations we select only the following 
passage : “ Must we not be surprised that nearly all 
the industry of the schools is bestowed upon Latium, 
so that little is left for Hellas, and scarcely any at all 
for Judea T I will not farther speak of the other de¬ 
fects of the schools, which they have in common with 
the other modes of life, inasmuch as the vicious de¬ 
sires, which gain strength with age, break forth more 
and more in impudence and other unseemly manifes¬ 
tations, and yet are not restrained with becoming zeal 
and with pious wisdom ; for the more there are in the 
schools, all being creatures depraved by nature, the 
more prosperously, or, rather, unprosperously does 
wickedness thrive and increase, the profligacy of the 
one supplying what is lacking to the impudence of the 
other; if not by great wisdom, which, indeed, is more 
than human, and must be sought of God, the tender, 
and, therefore, yet docile minds are led from this cor¬ 
ruption of the age to real virtue and piety. But since, 
for this purpose, the holy example of the teachers is 
necessary, it is obvious to every judicious person 


THE NEW PEDAGOGICS. 


141 


what mischief must accrue to the public good from 
the circumstance, that among those who teach in the 
schools numbers are found who do not at all know 
what it is to be a Christian, and who are, therefore, 
still less Christians themselves, and hence totally 
unfit for the wholesome performance of the duties of 
their office ; and, lastly, whereas, in domestic educa¬ 
tion, the boys are chiefly urged to do what is required 
of them by stimulating their desire of praise and dis¬ 
tinction, whereby they are, at the same time, filled 
with the unhappy seeds of ambition, it grieves me 
that the same procedure is continued in the schools. 
Such being the case, it is but too true that young men 
often leave the schools quite unlearned, inasmuch as 
God withholds his blessing from the industry of those 
who prefer all other things to him; intimate indeed, 
to a considerable extent, with other departments of 
knowledge, yet not with those which they will always 
need, but without knowing God, while, on the other 
hand, they are immersed in the love of the world and 
in the desire to please it; wise in their own conceits, 
but, alas! the more unfit for the divine wisdom. What, 
then, do the efforts of the professors benefit their hear¬ 
ers, except that they fill their brains with what I am 
fain to call a theological philosophy, or a human ex¬ 
pertness in holy things, while their hearts are empty 
of all true heavenly knowledge ! And it is a fact that, 
at this present time, the youth bring away from the 
majority of schools more that is heathenish than of 
what is Christian, so that the fears of the far-seeing 
Erasmus are but in too high a degree fulfilled, inas¬ 
much as he somewhere declares that his pleasure at 
witnessing the progress of certain studies in his day 
was considerably diminished by the apprehension that 
gradually much heathenism would insinuate itself in 
the minds,” &c. 

By many other voices complaints had been raised 
respecting the corruption of the clergy, the schools, 
and the universities. A reform was needed, and this 
want was deeply felt. The mind, liberated from its 
bondage, had in education, as well as in other matters, 


J42 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


adopted partial views, and employed itself with one¬ 
sided developments. Men began to perceive that it 
was necessary to bring the schools into due connex¬ 
ion with the concerns of life ; but the right way had 
not yet been found of carrying out the culture of 
youth from this only true starting-point. From this 
point proceeded two divergent courses of education : 
the one advocating the farther development, on im¬ 
proved methods, of the principle of culture hitherto 
recognised; the other aiming at the complete adop¬ 
tion of the new principle, which had, for some time 
past, been brought into action. Both these directions 
soon became still more divergent; the former, in¬ 
deed, dividing into two distinct branches, which, how¬ 
ever, at no time diverged as much from each other as 
the latter did from both these; and thus there soon 
arose, one after another, three principal systems in 
respect of schools and education. The first proceed¬ 
ed from piety, which had been extensively revived 
through the restoration to the Gospel of its influence 
upon mankind; the second proceeded, in like manner, 
from the revived study of the classics; the third 
adopted the new encyclopedism as its basis. It has 
been usual to denominate the first the Pietistic, the 
second the Humanistic system of pedagogics; by 
analogy, and without intending any severe reflection, 
the third will be here styled the Egotistic system. A 
fourth might yet be adopted, namely, the Eclectic; 
but this is not, in reality, a system: it is rather the 
mode of thinking of those teachers who do not ap¬ 
prove of the sharply-drawn distinctions of one-sided¬ 
ness, but reserve to themselves an unbiased judgment, 
and, while they connect themselves with no particular 
party, recognise that which is good in each. But such 
Eclectics, so-called, who indiscriminately adopt what¬ 
soever, upon a superficial view, appears valuable, do 
not at all deserve a place here. 

A new epoch usually derives its form and character 
from the circumstance that a number, be it greater 
or less, of energetic men hold to one and the same 
views or opinions, and are brought, more or less, into 
contact in life. Such friends generally impress, in a 


THE NEW PEDAGOGICS. 143 

certain sense, their character upon the new genera¬ 
tion. And thus it was here, when, at the beginning 
of the eighteenth century, the business of education 
assumed a new form at Halle, and the existing gener¬ 
ation proceeded in carrying out the principles of this 
school. The succeeding generation inclined more to 
the second system; and with the third generation, 
the third pedagogic system acquired a sort of predom¬ 
inance. Thus the three systems succeeded each oth¬ 
er : first, the Frankean, usually called the Pietistic, 
from about 1700 till after 1730; then came the Hu¬ 
manistic system of the philologists, continuing until 
about 1770 ; and, lastly, the Egotistic system, or 
the pedagogics of the philanthropists, originating 
with Rousseau, and extending into the nineteenth 
century. It must, however, be observed, that these 
systems are not to be too sharply distinguished from 
each other, either as regards time or the mode of their 
manifestation. They existed, for a long time, side by 
side, in decided opposition to each other in respect of 
a few prominent doctrines, and scarcely has any one 
of them yet reached its utmost point of development. 
We proceed now to consider them separately in their 
chronological succession. 

1 . The Pedagogics of Piety. 

The founder of this system is Augustas Hermann 
Franke, although we must not overlook the influence 
of his teacher and friend, Spener, in the same direc¬ 
tion. Franke’s principles are most clearly exhibited 
in his own useful life ; but he has also, here and there, 
expressed them in his writings. They may be sum¬ 
med up as follows. Christian piety is the foundation 
and aim of education; without it, all knowledge is 
more detrimental than useful. In every child there 
is evil, and we are therefore to begin by watching 
against it and counteracting it, especially in view of 
certain prominent defects that are peculiar to this age 
of human life; but, in so doing, it is necessary to 
have regard to the natural disposition of each child, 
and not to combat minor defects in such a manner as 
to give rise to greater ones. 


144 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


External points of culture must also be attended to. 
Whatsoever may be the future destination of the 
child, he is to be habituated, from an early age, to 
prayer, to self-examination, to self-knov^^ledge, and to 
piety. Religious instruction is therefore, at all times, 
the chief concern; but it must be practical, and there¬ 
fore accompanied with devotional exercises. The 
young should be left, as little as possible, without su¬ 
pervision ; but far from all educational institutions be 
monastic discipline: the whole course of education 
must be paternal: love must reign, yet combined with 
due rigour; the rod should be used as little as possi¬ 
ble, but kept in view, in terrorem. Those who are 
intended for the ordinary pursuits of life should be 
instructed in the practical matters connected with 
them, but those who are designed for some learned 
profession should only incidentally practise them, 
for to them the Latin and the Greek languages are the 
chief concern. In the higher classes they should 
also study logic and rhetoric. 

The Latin language must be studied with grammati¬ 
cal accuracy, but practised also in conversation. A 
selection should be made from the classics, that no¬ 
thing immoral may be presented to the pupil. For 
the study of the Greek language, the New Testament 
is chiefly to be used, as every student ought to read 
it in the original. The teachers are to exercise strict 
supervision over every pupil, and to prepare, previous¬ 
ly to each examination, i. e., every three months, ju- 
dicia respecting pietatem, studia, affectus, mores et 
constitutionem corporis, which are afterward to be 
entered in a book, in order that each pupil may be 
treated according as his case may require. 

In order to give efficiency to this system, a variety 
of well-adapted arrangements were adopted, which 
our limits will not allow us to recapitulate. Among 
other important improvements, Franke made excel¬ 
lent provisions for the external accommodation of the 
pupils, for an adequate supply of books, and for the 
other apparatuses of schools, which had before been 
scarcely thought of. 


THE NEW PEDAGOGICS. 


14 & 


In this plan of education, we still find the two 
first-named systems, to a considerable extent, united 
but the point where they separate is also clearly 
discernible. Even the third and later principal edu¬ 
cational direction was, in some measure, founded in 
this system. But Franke’s spirit and practical genius 
still embraced the whole ; and, though he treated the 
element of piety as paramount, he accorded to the 
others their due weight. His disciples and success¬ 
ors became more and more deficient in this spirit, 
however excellent they were in character and zealous 
to do good. The best things among men are subject to 
perversion and abuse ; and thus the good cause of pi¬ 
ety suffered from the one-sidedness, and the injudi¬ 
cious methods and contracted views of its friends. 
The neglect of classical culture, particularly of the 
Grecian literature, and thus, also, of taste ; an as¬ 
sumed appearance of sanctity, excessively multiplied 
devotional exercises, which, in the absence of true 
piety, produced either hypocrisy or disgust, and Phar- 
iseeism, even among the better pupils ; secret vi¬ 
ces, and intellectual shallowness—these constituted 
the morass into which this course of education led; 
whereas, seeing that it proceeded from the right prin¬ 
ciple, it might, if it had been judiciously organized 
and wisely carried out, have led to the happiest re¬ 
sults. None of the teachers of this school can be 
altogether exonerated from mistaken management, 
though it would be doing injustice to each of them if 
we refused to acknowledge the peculiar excellences 
which characterized the labours of each in the devel¬ 
opment of this system. 

Among the many and deservedly distinguished au¬ 
thors who proceeded from this school, and who pro¬ 
duced a great number of valuable schoolbooks, em¬ 
bracing new editions of the classics, Latin and Greek 
gi'ammars, &c., Joachim Lange is particularly cele¬ 
brated. We have not space to mention more of these 
men, of whom but few were, to any extent, affected 
by the errors of the system, and whose labours in be- 


146 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


half of education are deserving of grateful acknowh 
edgment. 

2. The Pedagogics of the Humanists. 

The Italian and Flemish school of pedagogics, as 
we have seen on previous pages, looked upon the 
study of the classics as the principal source of cul¬ 
ture, and since then the literature of the Greeks and 
Romans has been studied as constituting the huma- 
niora (the humanities), i. e., the principal means for 
the true culture of man. Even the Frankean school 
at Halle laid great stress on this so-called humanistic 
pedagogics. So long, however, as this school culti¬ 
vated classical studies only in connexion with what 
is called the pietistic education, the pedagogics of 
the humanists did not urge its pretensions in all their 
rigour. The professors of philology at the universities 
of Wittenberg and Leipsic, from Melanchthon down 
to Mosellanus, had given great prominence to this 
study; and in Franke’s time, a professorship and a 
seminary of the humaniora (the humanities) was 
also established at the University of Halle. Of this 
institution, the first teacher and superintendent was 
the celebrated pedagogist, C. Cellarius (born 1638, 
died 1707), who has particularly distinguished him¬ 
self by his schoolbooks. He founded at Halle the 
Seminarium Doctrinae Elegantioris. 

A still more distinguished promoter of classical 
studies was J. M. Gesner: born 1691, died 1761. 
From the rectorship of the Thomas-school at Leipsic, 
he was, in 1734, called to the new university at Got¬ 
tingen as the first professor of ancient literature. 
Here he immediately established the philological sem¬ 
inary, which soon became yery flourishing, and was 
instrumental, under Gesner’s great successor, Heyne 
(born 1729, died 1812), in educating a number of high¬ 
ly distinguished philologists : it continues to flourish 
under the direction of eminent scholars. Gesner, 
who rather inclined to the encyclopedism, and desi¬ 
red to see the study of the ancients brought into con¬ 
nexion with the acquisition of the useful knowledge 


THE NEW PEDAGOGICS. 


147 


of later times, is not to be ranked among those who 
are, in the strictest sense, called humanist^. To this 
school belonged, more decidedly, J. A. Ernesti, born 
1707, died 1781 ; who taught at Leipsic, and distin¬ 
guished himself as a Ciceronian Latinist, as his 
schoolbooks still show. In 1759 he became profess¬ 
or of theology, but remained faithful to his human¬ 
istic views. In 1784, a philological seminary was also 
founded in Leipsic by Chr. D. Beck, which continues 
to flourish under the direction of Hermann. 

We have remarked the establishment of the Semi- 
narium Doctrinae Elegantioris at Halle by Cellarius; 
but another seminary of the latter kind was now es¬ 
tablished in that city by G. G. Schiitz, born 1747, 
who, although a humanist, inclined to the so-called 
philanthropism. When he removed from Halle to 
Jena, Trapp succeeded him as first professor of ped¬ 
agogics ; but soon after, Fr. A. Wolf, born 1750, died 
1825, became his successor at the philological semi¬ 
nary. This profoundly learned humanist united in 
himself the multiform culture of his age, educated 
many distinguished philologists, and contributed great¬ 
ly to deliver the humanistic pedagogics from its one¬ 
sidedness. And since then the new epoch has com¬ 
menced. 

3. The Pedagogics of the Philanthropists. 

In proportion as education was more diffused among 
the mass of the people, the more was it drawn into 
the service of common life, and the more was it 
aimed at to educate children for its affairs. This 
tendency soon became the prevailing spirit of the 
age, which developed the egotistic system of educa¬ 
tion. The polymathy, which had, since the restora¬ 
tion of the sciences, been the hobby of the learned, 
was now about to appear as a rage for much knowl¬ 
edge, among all classes of society; the past simpli¬ 
city was lost in a multiplicity of pedagogic subjects 
the ties which bound man to society, as a whole, 
were regarded as oppressive chains ; and while soci¬ 
ety was, as it were, resolving itself into atoms, the 


148 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


individual claimed to be independent as such; and this 
chemical tendency of the spirit of the age was too 
agreeable to egotism, that it should not have welcomed 
the regard which was manifested for the pupil’s self. 
Those who saw only what was good in this develop¬ 
ment, found in it, from want of penetrating sagacity, 
the true enlightenment, and regarded the prevailing 
zeal to educate the young in accordance with it as 
that true philanthropy, wliich, as they weened, had 
long been a stranger on earth. Thus it was this 
spirit of the age which procured for the eighteenth 
century, in its latter half, the name of the philosoph¬ 
ical, and in respect of education, the philanthropic. 
If the strict sense of these terms be not insisted 
upon, we may, in our turn, safely venture to desig¬ 
nate this period as the egotistic. 

This period began to develop itself with the efforts 
to devise new methods, of which we have spoken, and 
with the commencement of the new encyclopedism. 
Bacon, Ratich, Comenius, and Locke introduced the 
better aspects of this period. So far from indulging 
in lamentations at this tendency, we must recognise 
in it a necessary and profitable point of transition in 
the progress of pedagogic science towards the right 
culture of man. But the more to be lamented is that 
degeneracy of the Protestant clergy in Europe, re¬ 
specting which, as we have seen, good men bitterly 
complained; for it was in this emergency that the 
Gospel ought to have been set forth in all its power, 
in order to counteract the invading egotism : then 
would the school and the Church have truly gained, 
and that directly through that public enlightenment 
which such men as Thomasius had sought to promote, 
with respect to important relations of human life. 
But now the clergy had to suffer for having neglected 
the true culture of the mind and heart, and it was, in 
a great degree, their own fault that men looked with 
suspicious eyes on ecclesiastical organizations; but 
the people, also, and the rising generation, were, to a 
great extent, defrauded of that better culture, which, 
under more favourable auspices, would have appear- 


THE NEW PEDAGOGICS. 149 

ed, and what might have been gain turned out to be 
loss. 

The schoolmen had been no less culpable in giving 
themselves up to pedantry, for vanity has at all times 
been more pernicious in its influence on the learned 
class than is generally supposed; and this we learn 
from the history of the men who belonged to it, and 
from the very confessions of the wiser among them. 
As long as the so-called spirit of caste was cherished 
by this class of society, pride prevailed among its 
members ; but when the higher studies more and more 
became common property, everybody began to set up 
claims to polymathy ; and from this union of vanity 
and pride proceeded the pedants, first in the human¬ 
istic department, then in the useful sciences, and so 
on to the newest airs of pedagogues and college-stu¬ 
dents. It is obvious that such a spirit could not give 
to youth the culture that was so much needed, and 
that it necessarily spoiled much of the good that had 
been gained. The pedagogic systems which belong 
to this category originated more immediately in the 
principles of Montaigne and Locke. The first who de¬ 
veloped from these a system was Rousseau; next 
followed that of Basedow; and lastly, occupying high¬ 
er ground, that of Pestalozzi. 

A. 

Jean Jacques Rousseau, born 1712 at Geneva, ex¬ 
pressed with much genius, and in an elegant form, 
those principles of the modern pedagogics. We shall 
not follow him through his erratic and eventful life. 
With some few points which we may admire, it pre¬ 
sents, on the whole, a vile and often disgusting specta¬ 
cle. His writings produced an astonishing effect on the 
public mind, and had, perhaps, no inconsiderable in¬ 
fluence in bringing about the French Revolution. In 
1762 appeared his celebrated pedagogic work, with 
which we are here more particularly concerned, enti¬ 
tled “ Emile, ou de I’Education.” This work bears a 
deep impress of its author’s character, which the un¬ 
informed reader will find depicted in Musset-Pathay’s 
N 2 


150 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


“ Histoire de la Vie et des Ouvrag-es de Jean Jacques 
Rousseau.” 

. We deem it unnecessary to exhibit Rousseau’s ped¬ 
agogic views in detail; the more so, because his gen¬ 
eral principles were more completely reduced to sys¬ 
tem by men of whom we shall hereafter speak, and who 
were guided by other, and higher, and purer principles 
than this unhappy man. Many of his rules that are tru¬ 
ly valuable areimbodied in the forenamed work. His 
rules for the physical treatment of children corre¬ 
spond, on the whole, with those of Locke. He re¬ 
gards man from a false, a low, worldly, utilitarian 
point of view; and while he gives many excellent 
rules for the physical and intellectual education, and 
the general worldly culture of man, he abounds in gla¬ 
ring absurdities; and to him are chiefly to be traced 
the grovelling tendencies which have manifested them¬ 
selves in modern pedagogics. He utterly repudiates 
religious instruction for the young as absurd. But, 
as he had not himself any knowledge of the great God 
of the Bible, and would none of the religion of the 
New Testament, of whose character he had, certain¬ 
ly, not the remotest conception, he is not entitled to a 
judgment in the premises, and his assertions are 
worth nothing, for he knew not whereof he testified. 
In announcing these views, he seems to have been, in 
some measure, actuated by a spirit of hostility against 
Locke, between whose educational opinions and his 
own there are strong points of resemblance, but no 
less obvious ones of difference, especially on the sub¬ 
ject of religious education.* 

* In farther confirmation of the views expressed above, we append the 
following note from p. 50 of “ The School and the Schoolmaster,” a work 
which we most cordially recommend to all who take an interest in the prog¬ 
ress of education in our country. “ This,” the Emile, “ may be regarded, 
says a late writer, as the principal work of Rousseau. It is a moral ro¬ 
mance, which appeared in 1762, and treats chiefly of education. The plan 
of instruction which it inculcates is to allow the youthful mind to unfold 
itself without restraint, and rather to protect it against bad impressions 
than to attempt to load it with positive instruction. The objects of nature 
are to be gradually presented to it. Necessity alone is to regulate and re¬ 
strain it, till reason, unfettered by prejudice and previous habits, is able to 
weave the drapery in which it is afterward to be swathed. The child of rea¬ 
son, thus thrown into a mass of human beings, actuated by different motives, 


THE NEW PEDAGOGICS. 


151 


Even before 1770, the doctrines of these two men 
had been completely domesticated in Germany, where, 
however, the new spirit of culture had already man¬ 
ifested its activity under a somewhat different as¬ 
pect. New institutions, of various descriptions, had 
been everywhere established, and domestic education 
had experienced considerable changes. It was con¬ 
stantly the subject of thought and inquiry how the 
young might be educated to be well-informed, en¬ 
lightened, and good men and women; but the mode 
of procedure was still too one-sided. It was agreed 
that classical studies ought to be pursued according 
to a better method, but that method was not so easily 
found; that these studies constituted the principal el¬ 
ement of higher culture was asserted by a numerous 
party, but this was denied by many who made the 
highest pretensions to taste. Disputes arose, and the 
schools underwent many metamorphoses. 

B. 

And now it was that a celebrated man, John Bern- 
hard Basedow, born in 1723 at Hamburg, took his 
seat on the oracular tripod. Having experienced 
various reverses, and even persecutions on account 
of his theological opinions, he devoted himself more 
and more to pedagogics ; and the enthusiasm with 
which he contended against the defects of the pre¬ 
vailing methods, as well as the universal and deeply- 
seated desire of a reform in the schools, procured 
him the favour and patronage of noble and actively 
benevolent men. He published in 1768 a remon- 

giaided by different principles, and pursuing different objects from itself, like 
a skilfully-constructed bark without its rudder, and stripped of its canvass 
and cordage, can have no other fate than that of being dashed against the 
cliffs, or sunk beneath the waves. In discussing the subject of religious ed¬ 
ucation, he exhibited the same inconsistency and absurd views. The 
French savants were displeased with his glowing sentiments of piety,with his 
impassioned admiration of the morality of the Gospel, and of the character 
of its Founder ; while the friends of religion and social order were shocked 
with his attacks upon miracles and prophecy, with his insidious and open 
objections to Christianity, and with the application of human reason to sub¬ 
jects beyond its sphere and above its power. The French Parliament not 
only condemned the Emile, but compelled Rousseau to retiie precipitately 
from France, by commencing a criminal prosecution against him,” 


152 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


strance addressed to philanthropists, in which he 
earnestly sought to direct attention to the neglected 
claims of education. Soon after appeared his cele¬ 
brated elementary work, and lastly, his book of Meth¬ 
ods for the fathers and mothers of families and nations. 
In 1771, the venerable Duke of Dessau furnished him 
both buildings and money for the establishment of a 
new institution, which Basedow opened in 1774, under 
the high-sounding title of Philanthropinum. But had 
not his prince had sounder and clearer views than 
himself, and watched, with parental care, over the in¬ 
stitution, which at the very beginning suffered a se¬ 
vere blow through Basedow’s listlessness and want of 
skill, it never would have achieved the good which in 
the end it did accomplish, chiefly through the wise 
exertions of the excellent duke. The eyes of all 
were anxiously directed towards this new institution, 
and the first public examination produced an exceed¬ 
ingly favourable impression. 

But Basedow was in no respect the man to con¬ 
tinue, with success, the experiment which had thus 
far succeeded, notwithstanding the striking defects of 
his character. His assistant, Wolke, contributed most 
to the establishment of the new institution; he was 
aided by a number of young men, who afterward 
ranked among the most eminent pedagogists of Ger¬ 
many : among these, Campe and Salzmann are the 
most celebrated. Basedow soon left his institution, 
which had no reason to mourn his loss. He died, 
1790, in poverty, more to be pitied than blamed, for he 
had good intentions and benevolent purposes, and 
showed great activity in reducing them to practice; 
but his temper was violent, his own education defect¬ 
ive, and his abilities were inadequate to the work 
which he had undertaken. His pedagogic idea is ex¬ 
pressed in the following sentences: 

“ The culture of the understanding is the chief thing, 
for even the way to the heart is through the head. 
The cultivation of the memory is apt to induce stu¬ 
pidity. Religion is communicated by means of en¬ 
lightened instruction, and moral character is produced 


THE NEW PEDAGOGICS. 


153 


by simple instruction in morals. Languages are to be 
studied only in subserviency to practical studies ; and 
things serviceable to culture are not supersensuous, 
but consist in the commonest concerns of daily life. 
These useful matters are the chief subjects of in¬ 
struction. The process of learning must always pro¬ 
ceed from the observation of sensuous objects : it 
should be made as easy as possible, and children 
should learn only when they please, and in an enter¬ 
taining manner. Attention must be paid to physical 
health and strength. In accordance with these prin¬ 
ciples, all schools should be regulated; and they 
ought, in general, to be, more than they are, institu¬ 
tions of education. Such an institution will rather 
educate man, as such, than the citizen or scholar; for 
the general interests of man are more important than 
those of particular callings. Until the fifteenth year 
the boy should be educated only as a citizen of the 
world. Man is by nature good! and God, as the fa¬ 
ther of all, loves all. Children naturally love men, 
and must, therefore, be educated to be philanthropists 
and cosmopolites. Such an institution deserves the 
name of Philanthropinum : with its encyclopedism of 
instruction, it will bring on the Golden Age.” 

According to these principles, absurd and mischiev¬ 
ous as the most of them are, Basedow had drawn up 
his elementary work for schools, and laid down the 
rules for instruction in his book of Methods. Those 
who are acquainted with the writings of Montaigne, 
Bacon, Comenius, Locke, and Rousseau, can find little 
or nothing that is instructive in these works. Basedow 
stood, indeed, on the shoulders of these men, and the 
views to which they had given currency he knew well 
how to beat out into tinsel; but he possessed neither 
their genius, nor a profound acquaintance with their 
works. 

C. 

Far more successful, and deservedly so, than Base¬ 
dow, was Christopher G. Salzmann, born 1744 at 
Sommerda, near Erfurt: a man of great learning, 


154 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


sound judgment, correct feeling, pure taste, and deep 
piety, and one of the best teachers of his age. He 
laboured for some time at the Philanthropinum at 
Dessau (Basedow’s), to which he had been invited in 
1781, and where his labours for the religious edu¬ 
cation of the pupils were greatly blessed. But the 
institution of Basedow did not please him : he wished 
for a sphere in which he might carry out, independ¬ 
ently, his own idea of education, and desired, there¬ 
fore, to found an institution of his own. An oppor¬ 
tunity soon presented itself. A friend made him a 
present of a small estate in the neighbourhood of 
Gotha, and the reigning duke, Ernest, advanced him 
a considerable sum of money for the erection of new 
buildings. Salzmann trusted in God, and the work 
which he had undertaken advanced and flourished 
more and more from day to day. “I had com¬ 
menced it,” he writes, “ in order to be able here to 
give children a good education, and, as yet, no father 
has had sufficient confidence in me to intrust to me 
his child.” But soon pupils flocked in from every 
part of Germany, from Switzerland, England, Portu¬ 
gal, and the northern kingdoms of Europe; and he 
soon presided over the largest and most respectable 
real institution of education among all that had yet 
been undertaken. Six of his assistants became his 
sons-in-law: his whole patriarchal family were en¬ 
tirely devoted to the interests of the institution; and 
though it suffered severely through the catastrophe 
which Napoleon’s wars brought upon Germany, it 
still flourishes, since the father’s death, under the di¬ 
rection of his children, or, perhaps, children’s chil¬ 
dren. 

Such permanency proves that the fundamental idea 
was good and sound. Simplicity, order, a healthy 
mode of life; gymnastics, useful studies, culture of 
the understanding; cultivation of a healthful state of 
the feelings, of a true love of nature, and of sincere 
piety; vigilance against any unchaste manifestations; 
the regular division of the day between bodily and in¬ 
tellectual activity: all this operated together, under 


THE NEW PEDAGOGICS. 


155 


the influence of parental kindness and care, in so 
happy a manner that the idea of an extended family- 
education has never been more fully realized. This, 
indeed, was not yet the idea of a complete education 
for boys and young men: it was still burdened by the 
one-sidedness of philanthropism. 

Educational institutions now increased in number, 
and there was no end of the new arrangements that 
were tried. The imitations of the Philanthropinum 
were the least successful; for these attempts were 
now made either with a view to profit alone, or from 
a mad zeal for improvements ; adventurers and young 
enthusiasts embarked in the business of education. 
It had become a matter of fashion. One of the bet¬ 
ter developments was the institution of M. de Ro- 
chow, born 1734 at Berlin, died 1800. This worthy 
nobleman exerted himself practically for the improve¬ 
ment of the village-schools on his estates, so that 
from every part of Germany young teachers were 
sent there, in order to study the model of a good 
country-school, and of the method of instruction best 
adapted to them. He also published a schoolbook 
suited to his plan. All this concurred with the uni¬ 
versal tendency to disseminate every species of knowl¬ 
edge among aU classes of society. 

D. 

J. Heinrich Pestalozzi, born at Zurich 1746, died 
1827; of a patrician family, was, from his sixth year, 
left, by the death of his father, to the care of his 
mother and of some kind relatives, who gave him a 
plain education. He visited the schools at Zurich, 
distinguished himself, among other things, in the 
study of the Greek language, but forfeited the good¬ 
will of his teacher by translating better than he, a 
portion of the Philippica of Demosthenes. This in¬ 
duced him to discontinue his studies, and to retire to 
one of his estates, of which he possessed several. 
He is, no doubt, to be regarded as having been, in a 
great measure, self-educated. In the country he be¬ 
came acquainted with the wretchedness that prevailed 


156 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


among the people, and undertook to provide for more 
than fifty poor children (mendicants), whom he under¬ 
took to instruct in agriculture and in various manu¬ 
factures. At great cost, and amid contempt and 
ridicule, he persevered in his enterprise, which a total 
want of funds at length compelled him to abandon; 
yet he had the satisfaction of knowing that he had 
brought up more than one hundred poor, vagrant chil¬ 
dren to be useful members of society. In 1776 he re¬ 
turned to Zurich. About this time Iselin was publish¬ 
ing at Basle his periodical, entitled “ Ephemeriden 
der Menschheit,” and Pestalozzi became a frequent 
contributor. In 1786 he published his popular ro¬ 
mance, Lienhard und Gertrud, w'hich gained him great 
celebrity. He now travelled in Germany, where he 
acquired the friendship of many distinguished men, 
but brought back a very unfavourable opinion of the 
schools which he had visited. Soon after his return 
he wrote his “ Inquiries respecting the Course of Na¬ 
ture in the Culture of the Human Race,” on which 
work he spent three years. 

His desire to engage personally in the work of ed¬ 
ucation soon revived, and he resolved to “ become a 
schoolmaster.” After an unsuccessful attempt at 
Stanz, he opened, in 1799, his elementary school at 
Burgdorf, in which, though at first only a day-school, 
he soon received a number of boarders. It was the 
period of the Swiss Revolution, and, amid many annoy¬ 
ances and difficulties, this excellent man persevered in 
his arduous labours until 1806, when he was compelled 
to remove to Hofwyl, where the government of Berne 
assigned him a commodious building for his school. 
Here he associated with himself the celebrated De 
Fellenberg: but the connexion did not long continue ; 
and already, in 1807 (other authorities state these 
dates differently), he transferred his institution to the 
roomy schloss (castle) at Yverdun. He had, ere this, 
again published several books, to wit: “ How Ger¬ 
trude instructs her Children,” in 1801; Elementary 
Books, in four volumes, 1803-4; some years later 
he also edited a periodical. His institution became 


THE NEW PEDAGOGICS. 


157 


very flourishing, numbering frequently as many as 
one hundred and fifty pupils, and, besides, fifty young 
persons, who came, often at the expense of their gov¬ 
ernments, from almost every country of Europe, in 
order to study Pestalozzi’s method with a view to in¬ 
troduce it at home. At first his assistants were ani¬ 
mated by a common spirit, and vigorously co-operated 
with their venerable principal; but gradually this good 
understanding disappeared, discussions arose, and the 
institution declined more and more, while others grew 
out of it, as from a common root. Pestalozzi had 
spent upon it nearly his whole fortune, and now saw 
himself, in his old age, abandoned by those assistants 
to whom he had ever been, and still desired to be, a 
father. At eighty years of age he still comforted him¬ 
self with the idea of his youth, to establish a school 
for poor children; but even this plan was frustrated; 
and having yet experienced the mortification of read¬ 
ing a lampoon directed against himself, he died. 

In order to become acquainted with his pedagogic 
idea, we must recur to some of the earliest statements 
respecting it, which he made in the Ephemeriden der 
Menschheit, to which we referred above. In this pe¬ 
riodical he says, in 1779 : “ Childlike docility and obe¬ 
dience are not the result and invariable consequence 
of a complete education: they must be early, nay, 
the first foundations of human culture.” And again: 
“ Faith in God is the source of a peaceful life; a 
peaceful life is the source of inward order; inward 
order is the source of a well-directed (unverwirrten) 
application of our powers ; order in the employment 
of our faculties is again the source of their expansion 
and of their culture for wisdom; and wisdom is the 
source of all that is good in man and in human life; 
and thus faith in God is the source of all wisdom and 
of all blessings, and the path of nature to the proper 
culture of mankind.” The idea here expressed de¬ 
veloped itself farther in his own mind, yet the spirit 
of the age exerted upon it, in various ways, its modi¬ 
fying influence ; and Pestalozzi himself, with what¬ 
ever clearness he announced his views in “ Lienhard 
O 


158 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


und Gertrud,” seems never to have mastered it com¬ 
pletely. While he attached the highest importance 
to the influence of Christianity on education, he was 
yet too strongly tinctured with the egotistic views of 
his age, in aiming at the elevation of the individual to 
independence through an energy unconnected with 
the interests of society. 

The one-sidedness was soon discovered, but the 
good that was involved in his idea was not sufficient¬ 
ly appreciated. 

When Pestalozzi made the true culture of man de¬ 
pendant on his being developed entirely from within, 
his meaning was, that the child and the youth should, 
in accordance with his natural development, be ex¬ 
cited to purely independent activity, and strengthened 
for an unbroken progress. This is his method. It 
achieves, in the first instance, the strengthening of 
the mental faculties, in order to their developing them¬ 
selves progressively from within; and thus the cul¬ 
ture of the intellectual powers for the successful per¬ 
formance of their appropriate functions is made the 
chief concern of education. And as this develop¬ 
ment ought to commence in early childhood, Pesta¬ 
lozzi has assigned to the mother the first instruction 
of the child; and, in order to aid in the discharge of 
this duty, he wrote his “ Book for Mothers.” 

Elementary instruction is, in general, of great im¬ 
portance. It cultivates the power of observation* 
and of thinking by means of the three elements, 
figure, number, and word. Hence, the doctrines of 
form and magnitude belong to the earliest subjects of 
instruction, and the square is at the foundation, not 
only of intellectual, but even of moral culture, so that 
the educator has only to pronounce the (imperative) 
word “ measure !” For he that observes* angles and 
lines correctly, will also learn to discern clearly and 
without confusion what is truth and what is error; to 
distinguish, with the greatest accuracy, between right 
and wrong, and desire only what is true, and right, 

* In the second part of this work, this peculiar use of “ observe” and 
“ observation” will be found explained. 


THE NEW PEDAGOGICS. 


159 


and good. In the elementary books, teaching the re¬ 
lations of numbers and of magnitudes, the mode of 
procedure in the application of this method was fully 
described. Religion also was to be developed out of 
the child’s filial feelings, which manifest themselves 
in confidence, gratitude, and obedience towards the 
parents; and here also the mother was to be the first 
agent, as in her the Deity was, as it were, to appear 
to the child. 

Here, then, we have a complete, compact whole. 
But that, in this system of education, in the so-called 
method, the only true culture of man should have 
been regarded as discovered, proves how extremely 
one-sided was the spirit of the age. The sacred truth 
that salvation has come into the world, and that its 
power needs only be properly introduced in the hearts 
of the young, was too much lost sight of by the invent¬ 
or of this method, however full of love and of piety 
he may himself have been. 

Pestalozzi carried the egotistic mode of education 
to its utmost height, so that in him it found its culmi¬ 
nating point. He was deeply sensible of the egotism 
of the age ; he desired to educate the individual for so¬ 
ciety, and we can discover in his labours various ten¬ 
dencies to this end. In him we find the point of tran¬ 
sition to the newest educational developments, and he 
belongs, in a measure, to that period, which had al¬ 
ready commenced in his day. Ratich wished to lead 
the world of thoughts and of language, Comenius 
that of the senses, into the pupil; Rousseau desired to 
conduct him to an ideal world, and Pestalozzi to cre¬ 
ate one out of him. 

And here our history of education, as pertaining 
to the past, is, in fact, at an end; for the labours of 
Fellenberg, who has been mentioned in connexion 
with Pestalozzi, belong rather to the educational de¬ 
velopments of a later day. This very excellent man, 
Philip E. de Fellenberg, born 1771 at Bern, after his 
connexion with Pestalozzi had been dissolved, in con¬ 
sequence of their totally different characters, exerted 
himself in different ways for the improvement of ag- 


160 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


ricultiire in his native land. At the same time he ac¬ 
complished, what Pestalozzi had attempted without 
permanent success, the establishment of an institu¬ 
tion of entirely forsaken and destitute children. He 
opened, also, an “ CEkonomisches Lehrinstitut” for 
instruction in practical matters of life ; in connexion 
with which, he established, in 1808, a seminary for 
children from the higher classes. As this soon be¬ 
came very extensive and flourishing, he resolved to 
devote to it his chief attention, and therefore gave up, 
in 1818, the CEkonomisches Lehrinstitut, or agricul¬ 
tural manual-labour school. 

We must nf)tomit to notice here the celebrated phi¬ 
losopher J. G. Fichte, born 1762, who, in his “ Reden 
an die Deutsche Nation,” 1808, says many important 
things concerning education, but contends that chil¬ 
dren should all be taken away from their parents to 
be educated in a manner entirely different from that 
to which the corrupt generation of that day w'as com¬ 
petent : of course an utterly impracticable idea, un¬ 
less educators could have been obtained from some 
other world. 

The development and growth of this spirit of the 
age appears from its extensive pedagogic .literature. 
The number of writers on education, of authors of 
instructive books, and every variety of schoolbooks, 
was very great in Germany and in France, but es¬ 
pecially in the former country. Besides the works 
of authors already spoken of, we may here mention 
the Conversations of Madame de Beaumont, and in 
Germany, the numerous writings of Campe, as books 
very popular and useful in their day, and important, 
on account of the countless imitations to .which they 
have given rise. 

Intellectual activity received a new impulse through 
the vast multiplication of books, w^hich exerted, also, 
an important, in many respects very unfavourable, in¬ 
fluence on the culture of youth. There was much 
written and much read, and this produced a fondness 
for writing and a rage for reading; and both these 


THE NEW PEDAGOGICS. 


161 


effects were prejudicial to that careful industry which 
produces classical works, and weakened the attention 
of the reader, and thus prevented profitable reading. 
Thus writers and readers mutually spoiled each other: 
instead of graver studies, ephemeral entertainment 
was sought after, and literature became the servant 
of amusement and shallowness. The many journals 
and so-called literary periodicals which now sprung 
up, catered liberally for this depraved taste. And 
now came the flood of modern novels and romances, 
the great majority of which tend only to produce, in 
the young, a morbid sensibility, to fill them with false 
notions of life, its affairs and duties; to give loose 
reins to the imagination; to weaken the power of 
attention and of observation, and to produce that 
general enervation of mind, through much and hasty 
reading, of which there has been so much complaint. 

Since about 1780, the number of schoolbooks and 
of pedagogic works increased to such an extent, that 
a separate work of the history of literature would be 
required by this branch alone. Systems mutually 
supplanted, absorbed, or flattered each other, and 
true Christian education was more and more lost 
sight of: to this the spirit of the age did not tend. In 
respect of classical studies, though here also there 
were clashings and wanderings from one extreme to 
another, some better things came to light. 

The mass of cloud had refracted the light of the 
rising sun into colours, and one had called forth the 
other. The one-sided culture of the heart led on its 
opposite, the one-sided culture of the head: and this 
proceeded to such extremes, that the colour, which 
had seemed the harbinger of enlightenment, only 
receded from the light; for this has shone forth, and 
will forever shine forth only from the Gospel: and 
the union of the refracted rays, through a truly Chris¬ 
tian education, had not yet been found. The pre¬ 
sumption of that egotism, which was thoroughly cul¬ 
tivated in the school of mere reason and worldly 
prudence, constituted a very remarkable point of 
transition in the history of the human race. It ap- 


162 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


peared in three different metamorphoses, until, like 
the night-moth, it burned its wings in the light. It first 
came forth in Rousseau’s admonition, “ For God’s 
sake, let the rising generation not hear a word about 
God!” and, next, in the self-worship of the philoso¬ 
phy of nature, exhorting man himself to become God : 
and, lastly, in the thinking faculty, rent loose entirely 
from the Eternal, and claiming kindred with the Ti¬ 
tans, and saying, “Bring forth everything out of the 
idea, out of thyself: the world, the commonwealth, 
even the Deity, &c.!” That all this involved the sub¬ 
version of everything sacred, and of the whole order 
of nature, appears from the latest history, civil and 
pedagogic, of Europe; yet not without comfort, for 
the present state of the schools and the whole sys¬ 
tem of education exhibit decided tendencies towards 
the only right aim. 

To this, then, it had to come, when the Christian 
cultivating principle was departed from. To this led 
the age of Louis XIV. in France, and of Frederic the 
Great in Germany; but in France burst forth that 
fearful storm, which was averted from Germany by 
its remaining piety and the better elements in the 
German national character. 

And thus it also appeared that modern culture, des¬ 
titute of the power of Christianity, was afflicted with 
even greater poverty than that of the ancients, who, 
in their common public institutions, trained the young 
to order and good habits of life. 

CONCLUSION. 

Prospects for the Complete Realization of the Idea of 
Education. 

The inquiries and attempts of the emancipated 
mind of man must, in the end, lead to the recognition, 
in the fulness of its truth, of that cultivating principle 
to which the mind is indebted for its liberty, and to 
the unqualified elevation of this principle to the su¬ 
preme control of all the great concerns of human life. 
We trust that we have seen the beginnings of this im- 


CONCLUSION. 


163 


portant period even in the preceding; in the labours 
of some men who belong both to the former and to 
the latter. It remains for us to consider what has al¬ 
ready been accomplished towards the attainment of 
the desired end, and what are the prospects before us. 
In contradistinction from the past period, with its 
great errors, its one-sided and mischievous develop¬ 
ments, its separation between the school and active 
life, or, more distinctly, of school-instruction and of 
education, it will be characteristic of the present pe¬ 
riod, which is to achieve the true freedom of man, 
that it will effect a perfect union between instruction 
and education, proceeding from the innermost centre 
of life. 

In Germany, the renovated public life, the beautiful 
dreams and hopes which succeeded the seven years’ 
war (1762), were broken in upon by the whirlwinds of 
the French wars, which harassed Europe during twen¬ 
ty-five years. This awakening from delusion, even 
from the much-admired dreams of the philanthropists, 
however dreadful, was necessary. The restless do¬ 
ings of this philanthropism, in institutions and in wri¬ 
tings which only deserve to be forgotten, led to no¬ 
thing ; nay, it is doing it too much honour to ascribe 
to it all the educational developments of its age. Vul¬ 
garity was called culture, sentimentalism w^as regard¬ 
ed as excellence of character, unruly insubordination 
was mistaken for energy, unbelief for enlightenment, 
revolutionizing states for liberation from slavery, the 
dissolution of family-life for refinement and enjoy¬ 
ment of life.* 

Thus everything had become unsettled and loose, 
and there was no longer, in education, a counterpoise 
to egotism. From it proceeded the principles of edu¬ 
cation, and the means employed were in its service. 
Thus impudence had become natural to the young, and 
it was even sometimes regarded as a virtue, and ex¬ 
alted above that of Sparta, or that of any other peo¬ 
ple or age. It was heightened by the prevailing 

* For illustrations of all this, we would refer the reader to Professor Fel¬ 
ton’s elegant translation of W. Menzel’s German Literature. 


164 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


polymathy, and among students by the philosophical 
systems; and, of course, licentiousness increased. 

But now influences of a better character, tending 
more or less towards the improvement of the theory 
and practice of pedagogics, and some of which had 
been in operation for some time, began to make 
themselves more distinctly and extensively felt. The 
classic writers of Germany, beginning with Gellert, 
but more especially since the days of Lessing, re¬ 
buked, by precept and example, the prevailing pedan¬ 
try, and gave rise to clearer and profounder views 
respecting the culture of youth, than all those one¬ 
sided teachers and polyhistors. And as the necessity 
of improvement became more and more deeply felt, 
the desire to minister to it grew daily stronger. Even 
from the writings of J. P. Miller, born 1725, whose 
“ Principles of a Wise and Christian art of Education” 
is one of the earliest instructive works on pedagogics, 
we learn that, during that state of pedagogic anarchy, 
men were earnestly striving, throughout Protestant 
Germany, to bring about an improved plan of school- 
education. More important and directly to the pur¬ 
pose were the writings of J. M. Ehlers, whose work, 
entitled “ Thoughts concerning the Requisites neces¬ 
sary to the Improvement of the Schools,” appeared as 
early as 1766. Thilo’s “ Thoughts concerning Edu¬ 
cation” contained many wise and well-timed hints. 
And from this time more and more was written 
respecting the relations between the school, the 
church, and the state, between public and domestic 
education, &c., all which writing, if it accomplished 
nothing more, kept alive and stimulated the spirit of 
inquiry. Many existing errors, in theory and prac¬ 
tice, were exposed and protested against, and sounder 
views and better methods gradually fought their way 
into public esteem. Among the most important meas¬ 
ures must be ranked the establishment of seminaries 
for the education of good teachers. In Catholic coun¬ 
tries, also, the interest of the clergy and of princes in 
behalf of education was revived, and various effectual 
steps were taken, and institutions established for its 
improvement. 


CONCLUSION. 


165 


Thus, since about the last quarter of the eighteenth 
century, the business of education has been vigorously 
prosecuted in Germany ; the idea of education is grad¬ 
ually pervading it, and has already brought forth in it 
divers encouraging developments. The higher insti¬ 
tutions of learning and the popular schools, both in 
city and in country, give evidence that great progress 
has been made. 

The European nations of Germanic descent more 
immediately participate in this culture ; and among 
them Denmark, for a considerable time past, and 
more recently Holland, which has almost outstripped 
Germany in its course of improvement as respects 
common schools. It is only of late years that the 
business of popular education has experienced a re¬ 
vival in England, and the measures of government, as 
well as the influence of public-spirited men, have al¬ 
ready effected great and extensive improvements. 
The methods of Bell and Lancaster are of importance 
only in communities where nothing has as yet been 
done for popular education, and where no well-organ¬ 
ized and suitable plan for common-school education is 
in successful operation. 

Sabbath-schools, which existed as early as 1754 in 
the Grand-duchy of Baden, first became general in 
England through the exertions of Robert Raikes, and 
have since proved, both in other countries of Europe 
and in our own land, one of the greatest blessings to 
society. Since the middle of the eighteenth century, 
the attention of men has thus not only been occupied 
with the improvement of schools, but diverted more 
and more to the true culture of man and the public 
education of nations. Among the writers who have, 
in quite recent times, done most for the diffusion of 
sound principles and the development of good meth¬ 
ods, are Niemeyer, the author of a noble work, entitled 
“ Principles of EducationSchwarz, the author to 
whom we are mainly indebted for the materials of this 
history, and numerous extracts introduced in the fol¬ 
lowing system ; Harnisch, and Graser. 

Institutions of education, of every name and de- 


166 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


scription, are open to the young in the different coun¬ 
tries of Europe, and especially in Germany. One of 
the best features of the age is the provision that is 
made in some countries for the education of poor chil¬ 
dren. There are yet, indeed, many errors to be cor¬ 
rected in every department of education; many in¬ 
consistencies to be removed; many absurdities, and 
follies, and littlenesses, and vagaries to be rebuked, 
and driven from the schools and the firesides; many 
prejudices to be conquered ; and there remains much 
to be developed in theory, and to be rendered efficient 
in practice. 

And, above all, when we consider the progress of 
demoralization and irreligion throughout the civilized 
world, let us take heed that we boast not of advance¬ 
ment where there is retrogression, and remember that 
“ pride cometh before destruction, and a haughty spir¬ 
it before a falland let all who labour for the im¬ 
provement of human education take for their motto 
that word of unchanging truth, “ the fear of the Lord is 
the beginning of wisdom.'^ 

In our historic sketch of modern education, our 
own country has not been brought into consideration, 
for the simple reason that its pedagogic activity and 
institutions belong, in reality, entirely to the present 
period of that history, and because no peculiar sys¬ 
tems have been here promulgated. If we belong 
to any school, we must be Eclectics. Our culture is 
essentially European, modified, of course, by our po¬ 
litical institutions, our peculiar civil and social organ¬ 
ization ; and, while we are prompt to appropriate 
what we consider as good in the pedagogic arrange¬ 
ments, and institutions, and systems of Europe, we 
have fallen into many of the errors which, as we have 
seen, prevailed, or still prevail, in the Old World. 
These errors we have not here space particularly 
to discuss ; they are referred to, sometimes directly, 
but generally by implication, in the second part of this 
work. 

Yet we must add that our young country deserves 
great praise for much that she has independently ac- 


CONCLUSION. 


167 


complished in education, and for various good fea¬ 
tures in the character of her schools. The practical 
character of our people is prominently exhibited in 
our educational affairs ; and improvements in the ar¬ 
rangement and management of schools, in the meth¬ 
ods of instruction, in schoolbooks, are the order of 
the day. We have scholars among us of whom we 
need nowhere be ashamed, and who deserve the high¬ 
est praise for their efforts to promote an intelligent 
and spirited study of the classics in our higher semi¬ 
naries of learning. In the cultivation of the exact 
and the natural sciences, our professors are compe¬ 
ting with those of learned Europe. England seems 
to be aware of the increasing excellence of our school¬ 
books, if we are to judge from the eager but disin¬ 
genuous manner in which she makes them her own. 

But there is too much mere book-learning and too 
little education on all hands. 

Since these sheets have gone to press, we have re¬ 
ceived a copy of a new work, entitled “ The School 
and the Schoolmaster,” by Alonzo Potter, D.D., and 
George B. Emerson, A.M., about to be published by 
Messrs. Harper and Brothers. We hail the appearance 
of this work with sincere joy, and cannot but hope 
that it will be productive of much good, both in in¬ 
structing the public mind relative to the ends which 
ought to be aimed at in the education of the young, 
and in guiding and counselling educators in the appro¬ 
priate and successful prosecution of their efforts for 
the attainment of those ends. The work, differing 
materially from the present in its character and de¬ 
sign, is decidedly one of the most valuable contribu¬ 
tions which our country has yet made to pedagogic 
literature. Its chief design seems to be to exhibit the 
principles, and to present, in ample detail, a judicious 
and well-digested method, according to which our 
common schools should be conducted. The authors 
have long been known as men of distinguished talent 
and learning; and as their work is the result of ma¬ 
ture thought, and long experience in the business of 
education, it comes before the public with the strong- 


168 


HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 


est claims to their attention. In the first part there 
is much able and acute discussion of general princi¬ 
ples ; and we regret that the work did not appear ear¬ 
ly enough to admit of our extracting some of the 
beautiful and impressive passages in which it abounds. 
The second part, while it contains a great amount of 
sage counsel and direction for the teacher, will also, 
we trust, serve to enlighten trustees and inspectors, 
as respects the location, the arrangements, the venti¬ 
lation, the warming, &c., of schoolhouses, and ena¬ 
ble them to proceed with increased intelligence and 
prudence in employing instructors. The entire work 
is of great practical value, and the public are greatly 
indebted to its gifted authors for the time and labour 
which they have devoted to its preparation. Other 
valuable pedagogic treatises by American writers, re¬ 
ferred to in the work above spoken of, are the follow¬ 
ing : “ The Teacher,” by Jacob Abbott: “ Hall’s Lec¬ 
tures:” “Hall’s Lectures to Female Teachers “The 
Teacher Taught,” by Emerson Davis : “ The Teach¬ 
er’s Manual,” by Thomas H. Palmer: “ Suggestions 
on Education,” by Catharine E. Beecher. 

We have reason to rejoice at the zeal and energy 
with which the Protestant churches of our country 
have engaged in the establishment and improvement 
of Sabbath-schools. As an omen for good we would 
regard the extent to which Christianity is allowed to in¬ 
fluence our institutions of education: they are, indeed, 
for the most part, monuments of Christian effort for 
the improvement of mankind. The presidents of the 
great majority of our colleges, and many of their pro¬ 
fessors, are Christian ministers, who make their influ¬ 
ence as Christians felt; and the number of American 
authors who have written in the purest Christian spir¬ 
it, and in a popular and attractive style, on matters 
of education, or furnished instructive books for the 
young, is cheeringly great, and constantly increasing. 
The superior discipline of our colleges to that of sim¬ 
ilar institutions of Europe is doubtless, in a great 
measure, to be ascribed to the Christian principles on 
which these institutions have been established. And 


CONCLUSION. 


169 ' 


we merely add, that the future true, healthy, and ben¬ 
eficial development of our system of public education, 
which is yet in its infancy, the permanent existence 
of our free institutions, and the true greatness, and 
progressive culture, and abiding glory of this rising 
nation, all depend on this one thing : the religion of 
Christ must preside over, direct, and pervade the en¬ 
tire education of the free people of this mighty 
realm, otherwise we can but add another to the list 
of republics in which public corniption achieved na¬ 
tional ruin. 


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PART II. 


PL.\N OF CULTURE AND INSTRUCTION. 


BASED ON CHRISTIAN PRINCIPRES, AND DESIGNED TO AID IN 
THE RIGHT EDUCATION OF YOUTH, PHYSICALLY, 
INTELLECTUALLY, AND MORALLY. 


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PART II. 


A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE AND 
INSTRUCTION. 


Outline of the Work. 

Pedagogics is the science which treats of the prin¬ 
ciples on which man should be educated. And here 
tlie great question presents itself on the threshold, 
For what purpose does man live 1 or, In what does 
the value of life consist 1 

We shall not enter into an ethical or theological 
discussion of this great question, but answer it by 
simply asserting that the object of human life is the 
enjoyment of happiness; and we shall consider hu¬ 
man happiness as dependant on the two following 
conditions: 

I. On the culture of the understanding and the sen¬ 
sibilities. This division will embrace the affections, as 
being, indeed, spontaneous in their motions, yet sus¬ 
ceptible of development and training in a particular 
direction: and we shall here consider man as a 
being possessed of mental faculties and instincts, 
which are necessarily called into action by the rela¬ 
tions and circumstances in which he is placed, and 
which require education in order to their becoming 
the means of promoting his own happiness and that 
of others. 

II. On the culture of the moral powers, which com 
prehends religious instruction. Under this head we 
shall consider man as a responsible agent, and treat 
of the duties which his various relations impose upon 
him. 

Under our first division, then, we are to present a 
plan for the education of the understanding and the 
sensibilities. Here we are to consider man from two 
different points of view: and, first, Man as an Indi- 
P2 



174 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

vidiial. In this respect, his education in the graces 
of the mind will be considered. This will involve, 
from obvious reasons, 

1. Physical education, having in view the proper 
development of the body, by negative provision for 
health, by bodily exercise, and by regular education 
for the true enjoyment of life. Under this head be¬ 
long, 2. Intellectual culture, which aims at develop¬ 
ing the understanding for the perception of truth: 

3. .Esthetic education, which aims at the cultivation 
of the feelings for the perception and enjoyment of 
what is pure and beautiful in the relations of life; and, 

4. Practical education, which is designed to develop 
the character in general, for the public and active af¬ 
fairs of life. 

Under the last division we shall treat of practical 
education in general, or education in business-habits 
and in the proprieties of life, and of practical edu¬ 
cation in view of some particular calling. The na¬ 
ture of these is such as obviously to require a theory 
of didactics; and this will be presented under two 
heads : first, didactics for the learned professions, or 
instruction in the sciences ; second, didactics for the 
popular or common occupations of life. Our second 
division regards man as a social being, and treats of 
his education in the social affections. This will be 
considered under three aspects, as, 1. Education in 
the sentiments of private friendship, love, and benev¬ 
olence in general: 2. As education aiming at the 
right development of the sentiment of love in its nar¬ 
rowest sense, i. e., the love of family and kindred: 
3. As education in public spirit, having in view a de¬ 
velopment of the affections in harmony with, and pro¬ 
motive of, the interests of the community. And here 
we shall consider man, 1. As a member of the Chris¬ 
tian community: 2. As a member of the civil com¬ 
munity, or a citizen of the state. In connexion with 
the first point, we shall treat of his intellectual, aes¬ 
thetic, and practical education in view of his Chris¬ 
tian relations; and under the second, his education in 
pure and enlightened patriotism. 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


175 


Under our second general division we shall present 
a plan for moral education. And here, again, we shall 
consider man, 1. As an individual, under which aspect 
we shall treat of his education in what is ordinarily- 
designated as a sense of honour, or the cultivation of 
a proper self-respect: 2. As a social being, which as- 
spect comprehends the cultivation of a sense of jus¬ 
tice ; a due consideration of the rights of others ; or 
moral culture, in its narrowest sense : and, 3. As a be¬ 
ing subject to Divine government and responsible to 
God. This involves the religious education of man, 
or the cultivation of the religious sense, under its 
three necessary aspects. 

General Principles. 

By pedagogics we mean a theory of education ; a 
system of principles for the culture of the under¬ 
standing, the sensibilities, and the moral powers of the 
young. The former department comprehends all that 
is denominated learning, or the scientific culture of 
the mind: the culture of the moral powers embraces - 
virtue and piety. 

The difference between the theorist in pedagogics 
and the practical pedagogue is not to ,,be lost sight of. 

The system of pedagogics must embrace every va¬ 
riety of education, and make provision for all its de¬ 
partments, however widely the subjects to be educa¬ 
ted and the objects to be attained may differ. As the 
theory cannot provide for every possible case, its prin¬ 
ciples must necessarily be subject to many and vari¬ 
ous modifications. These are, of course, left to the 
judgment and sagacity of the educator.* Highly as 
we estimate the value of a theory of education, and 
of a systematic digest of its most judicious methods, 
we must yet regard both as subordinate to this high¬ 
est principle, that the judgment and skill of the edu¬ 
cator are superior to all prescribed methods. 

* This word, which is not actually in use, is frequently employed in this 
work in preference to teacher, because the latter word is, in its ordinary 
acceptation, of veiy limited meaning ; and because a general term, embra¬ 
cing all engaged in the work of education, is here wanted. 


176 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

The value of a theory of pedagogics arises, not so 
much from its actually forming future pedagogues, as 
from its directing their attention to the various and 
difficult duties of the teacher, which are so often sac¬ 
rificed to self-interest, to the love of ease, and to oth¬ 
er improper motives. The educator of youth should 
be animated in his employment by pure love to his 
race, and by nothing else. He that devotes himself 
to the business of education from any other motive 
than that of developing his pupil’s understanding for 
the apprehension and appreciation of all that is ex¬ 
cellent and desirable within the compass of human 
knowledge, and of cultivating his heart for the love 
of virtue, the love of God and man, is destitute of the 
spirit that ought to actuate all who would educate the 
young : an office second to none that can be intrusted 
to the faithfulness of man. 

And, in this connexion, we cannot refrain from ob¬ 
serving that, though the world may have men of dis¬ 
interested liberality and benevolence to boast of, it is 
vain to expect that any should possess the right spirit 
for the duties of education but those who are under 
the influence of the high motives and the holy prin¬ 
ciples of the Christian religion. It is of supreme im¬ 
portance that the teacher should himself eminently 
exhibit, in his character and conduct, those attain¬ 
ments and excellences to which he aspires to con¬ 
duct his pupils ; for education can be successful only 
when the educator’s love of mankind is sustained in 
its efforts by the force of his example : and hence 
the immense difficulty, we may safely say impossi¬ 
bility, of a perfect education is apparent. Want of 
success is more frequently owing to the incompeten¬ 
cy or the unfaithfulness of the educator than to the 
perverseness of the pupil. 

Education has reaped much contempt from the mis¬ 
takes and failures of those who have professed to be 
her servants : but while men are ready to heap cen¬ 
sure on public or professed teachers, they are but too 
apt to forget that parents are educators no less than 
certain individuals who make education their fixed 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


177 


employment; and that it is the former who, by their 
all-powerful example, as often, if not in most instan¬ 
ces, train up their tender pupils for happiness or mis¬ 
ery. 

From all this, the great responsibility that resis 
upon teachers, and the importance of their being 
thoroughly prepared for their high office, are abun¬ 
dantly obvious. This preparation consists in perfect 
self-education. This, indeed, is an ideal, but it is one 
whose closest approximation should always be aimed 
at. But we repeat, that among all the qualifications 
required in one who aspires to be an educator of 
youth, pure love to man is the sine qua non. 

Education, when it is what it ought to be, embraces 
the interests of man, not only in the present, but still 
more in the eternal world. It is, hence, the most im¬ 
portant of all occupations, and it demands to be rec¬ 
ognised as such. However extensively this demand 
may be responded to in theory, it is beyond expres¬ 
sion deplorable to witness the extent to which the 
practice of society is at variance with its professions. 
And this is utterly inexcusable ; for it is obvious, that 
if education were universally what it ought to be, 
what the doctrines of Scripture require it to be, all 
men would become what their Creator has designed 
them to be, as far as this destination is attainable in 
this world. How little is education understood, and 
its importance appreciated! How mistaken is the no¬ 
tion that education consists in what is usually called 
a school-education! This is but one department of 
the great system, and a limited one indeed. The 
world is one vast schoolhouse, in which education, 
such as it is, never ceases for a moment. Oh! that 
the mighty power of Christianity might control it ex¬ 
clusively, through the influence, not only of the in¬ 
structions, but of the character and example of its 
teachers! 

Admonitions and counsel are by no means to be de¬ 
spised ; but in education, example is omnipotent, and 
its importance is therefore paramount. 


178 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 


DIVISION 1. 

PHYSICAL AND INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION. 

SECTION 1. 

1 . THE CULTURE OF THE UNDERSTANDING AND THE 
SENSIBILITIES. 

CHAPTER 1. 

Man^ in his Individual Capacity, educated in the Graces 
of the Mind. 

a. We begin with physical education, or the proper 
development of the body: and here we are first to 
consider that negative provision for health can be 
made in various ways. This subject is one of the ut¬ 
most importance to parents, and to others intrusted 
with the education of children, and a great deal of at¬ 
tention has been given to it by writers on pedagogics. 
We would refer particularly to the admirable work of 
Schwarz. Apart from its own distinct value, the body 
is highly important as the substratum of the mind. 
Hence the duty of parents and others to provide neg¬ 
atively for the health of the body, on which the health 
of the mind depends. 

The unimpaired health of parents is, in general, a 
guarantee of healthy offspring. It cannot be too se¬ 
riously urged upon the attention of mothers, that the 
mode of life which they observe, and the tempers and 
feelings which they cultivate previous to the birth of 
their children, and during their early infancy, has a 
great influence, not only on the physical health, but 
on the disposition of their offspring. 

Great progress can be made during the infancy of 
children in the due development of their senses, es¬ 
pecially those of sight and hearing. Let the child 
look as long as it pleases at every object that at- 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


179 


tracts its attention, not passing from one to another 
before it has examined one to its satisfaction. Let it 
be entertained with agreeable sounds of the human 
voice, by talking to it pleasantly, not seriously, but as 
much nonsense as you please ; and especially by sing¬ 
ing, not loudly and harshly, but softly and sweetly. 
Similar rules for the development of the other senses 
will suggest themselves to every intelligent mind. 
This subject will be discussed at large on a subse¬ 
quent page. 

Infants should be permitted to spend a good deal 
of time at the window; and whenever the weather is 
suitableji they should be carried about in gardens, or 
wherever nature’s green abounds. 

For the development of gentle and amiable disposi¬ 
tions in the infant, nothing can be more influential 
than its being surrounded by cheerful, pleasant faces ; 
faces not wrinkled and clouded with care, but beam¬ 
ing with joyous love towards the new citizen of the 
world. It is important that it should very often see 
the father’s face lighted up with the smiles of affection, 
and hear his voice expressive of joyful emotions ; for 
if, in its earliest intercourse with human beings, it be 
too much confined to the mother or to other females, 
an influence on its character will be wanting which 
can be supplied only by the manly features and tones 
of the father. 

In respect to the physical education of the child, 
we observe farther, that its food requires the utmost 
attention. As regards the quality of the food, care 
should be taken that it be neither too strong, nor con¬ 
tain too little nourishment, but that, in all cases, it be 
adapted to the age and constitution of the child. On 
this point we refer to medical authorities, merely ad¬ 
ding, that the practice, which prevails so extensively 
in this country, of giving children a large proportion 
of animal food, deserves to be condemned as mis¬ 
chievous. 

Parents, and others intrusted with the education of 
children, should pay special attention to the quantity 
of food which they receive. This point is of the ut- 


180 A PLAN OP YOUTHFUL CULTURE 


most importance, because children are not led by rea¬ 
son, as grown persons often are, nor, like animals, by 
instinct, to observe moderation in eating and drinking, 
whence they frequently indulge themselves to excess. 

It is no less important that they be not suffered to 
eat too rapidly. They should be taught, with care, to 
masticate their food properly. And it is, in like man¬ 
ner, necessary to guard against their making use, at 
one time, of articles that accord ill together, such as 
fat food and cold water. As regards the time of eat¬ 
ing, regularity should be observed. Children may re¬ 
quire food more frequently than grown persons, but it 
is always best to limit them to certain stated times; 
to give them moderate meals in the evening, and not 
too shortly before their going to bed; and, in general, 
to indulge them but very little in cakes and confec¬ 
tions. Plain, nourishing food is best for all stomachs, 
especially for young ones. 

With respect to the natural discharges, we here 
merely observe, that some children are affected with 
peculiar infirmities, which require the most careful 
and judicious treatment, as these early weaknesses 
often become confirmed habits, and induce general, 
habitual filthiness. It will be obvious to most of our 
readers what infirmity is here more particularly refer¬ 
red to. The manner in which children subject to this 
weakness, or, for want of early and suitable manage¬ 
ment, addicted to a vile but stubborn habit, are gener¬ 
ally treated, is highly injudicious. The habit may 
arise from sheer laziness; and, when this is ascer¬ 
tained to be the case, let correction be administered. 
But it is often a real infirmity, whatever may be its 
origin. For such cases. Dr. Graves, professor of the 
institutes of medicine in the school of physic. Trinity 
College, Dublin, recommends the following treatment. 
We quote his language ; “A boy, perfectly healthy, 
but of a nervous temperament, studious, and extremely 
anxious about his lessons, is subject from his infancy 
to pass his water under him in bed. He is, suppose, 
arrived at the age of six or seven years, and has no 
disease; but still this habit sticks to him, and cannot 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


181 


be removed. The irritability of his disposition has 
been increased by injudicious correction ; he has bee» 
taken up at nig^ht and whipped ; he has been ridiculed 
during the day; his infirmity has been made known 
to his companions, who call him nicknames; and in 
this w'ay the habit has been rather confirmed than re¬ 
moved.Now what are you to do 1 In the first 

place, you must remove the boy entirely from all com¬ 
panions of his own age who are acquainted with his 
bodily infirmity. In the next place, you must not al¬ 
low him to be corrected or reproached, and you must 
adopt every moral means to diminish general irritabil¬ 
ity. The boy should not be too much confined; he 
should not be allowed to apply too closely to his les¬ 
sons ; and he should have generous diet, good air, 
and sea-bathing. On these general principles I have 
cured several very obstinate cases, with the use of in¬ 
fusion of buchu, with tincture of cantharides, in small 
doses.”— Graves’s Clinical Lectures, 2d Am. edit., p. 
235. 

We merely add, that the above-prescribed medi¬ 
cines should not be meddled with without consulting 
a physician. 

Cleanliness in every respect can never be too 
strongly inculcated, by precept, example, and disci¬ 
pline. Nothing is more important to a healthy state 
of the body. Some children seem to have no notion 
whatever of cleanliness—no capacity for it. But we 
know^ that in such cases vigilance and unremitted at¬ 
tention can accomplish a great deal, though it may be 
necessary, for a long time, daily to direct such chil¬ 
dren to brush their .teeth, to comb their hair, and to» 
attend to other points connected with a due cleanlir- 
ness of person. 

Bathing is highly to be recommended. Even in- 
the case of those who are really cleanly in their hab¬ 
its, the accumulation of dust during the winter, to the 
obstruction of the pores, renders bathing decidedly 
necessary for the preservation and promotioh. of 
health. If practice in swimming can be combined 
with it, the acquisition of a valuable art will furnish 



182 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

additional inducements to frequent bathing-. It is con¬ 
sidered most conducive to health not to prolong ba 
thing beyond half an hour at a time. 

Another point of the utmost importance is the ven¬ 
tilation of rooms. Children should never be suffered 
to inhabit ill-ventilated rooms, much less to sleep in 
them. In boarding-schools, where many children of¬ 
ten live and sleep in one room, this matter should be 
carefully, conscientiously attended to. A foul atmo¬ 
sphere is pestiferous to the human system, but espe¬ 
cially so to the tender organs of the young. The ar¬ 
tificial impregnation of the air with foreign ingredi¬ 
ents, by fumigation or otherwise, should be avoided. 
It is not only an unnecessary, but a pernicious prac¬ 
tice. It is, under all circumstances, best to keep up a 
moderate temperature in inhabited rooms. Much that 
is valuable on the ventilation of rooms may be found 
in the writings of George Combe. 

A great deal may be done for the preservation, the 
development, and the strengthening of the bodily or¬ 
gans. And here it is of primary importance that per¬ 
spiration be not in any way, e. g.,by too much or too 
little clothing, either too much excited or too much 
repressed. But the promotion of this necessary ex¬ 
cretion by the pores, by means of suitable bodily ex¬ 
ercise, is much to be recommended. Tight clothes ob¬ 
struct the development and prevent the free exercise 
of the bodily organs. It is painful to see how often 
children are thus cramped, and screwed up in stays 
and buckram, in order to gratify the bad taste of 
their fashionable parents. Children delight in their 
natural freedom, in the use of their limbs, and to make 
fools of fashion of them requires much and laborious 
effort in training them to habits which are unnatural. 
They cannot be taught to prefer fashionable clothing 
to such as nature prescribes, except at the expense 
of their health and comfort. 

The preservation of the teeth, the eyes, and of the 
sense of hearing, is a point which calls for the most 
Tigilant care on the part of parents and teachers, be¬ 
cause children are notoriously careless of it them- 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


183 

selves. As regards the preservation of the teeth, 
children ought not to be suffered to eat or drink any¬ 
thing either too hot or too cold. Hot food or drink 
is exceedingly pernicious. The greatest harm, how¬ 
ever, is done by rapid transitions from one extreme 
to the other. 

Children are very apt to injure their eyesight by 
having their books at either too great or too small a 
distance from the eyes, and by often poring over them 
in the gloom of twilight, or when seated too far away 
from the candle. On these points they require to be 
advised by the experienced. So they will often in¬ 
jure or destroy the sense of hearing by thrusting pins 
and other pointed articles into their ears, which prac¬ 
tices parents and others should peremptorily prohibit, 
and if repeated, punish, instead of setting the evil 
example, which they often do. 

In general, we may here remark, that it will be well 
to make children hardy in their whole mode of life ; 
for, by so doing, they will be saved a host of ailments 
and of imaginary wants in after life. Only avoid ex¬ 
tremes ; for, while many parents train their children 
to effeminacy, others kill them by ill-advised methods 
of making them hardy. 

Care should be taken that children get an adequate 
amount of sleep, and no more. Assuming seven 
hours of sleep as sufficient, on an average, for a 
grown person, we may safely set down nine hours 
as quite enough for children. Too much sleep inter¬ 
feres with and obstructs the circulation of the blood, 
produces enervation and indolence, relaxes the fibres, 
and thus occasions many diseases. Infants, on the 
other hand, should be suffered to sleep as much as 
they please. 

Of the utmost importance to the healthy develop¬ 
ment of the body is the prevention of ail unchaste 
habits of thought and conduct, and the most assiduous 
cultivation of the strictest purity. The writer had 
originally discussed the physical aspects of this sub¬ 
ject at considerable length, and dwelt extensively on 
the prevention and cure of certain vicious and perni- 


184 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 


cious habits, into which the young are so often, and in 
various ways, seduced; but sundry weighty reasons 
subsequently induced him, after his work was entire¬ 
ly ready for the press, to suppress this discussion. 
He feels bound, however, to urge, in this connexion, 
upon parents, and others charged with the education 
of the young, the necessity of guarding their tender 
offspring or pupils, with the most solicitous vigilance, 
against the pollution of unchaste language and con¬ 
duct ; of protecting them from all temptations to fall 
into practices and habits which would necessarily de¬ 
grade and demoralize their minds, and sap the ener¬ 
gies of their physical constitution : in short, of adopt¬ 
ing every possible means of preserving uncontamina¬ 
ted their purity of soul, and of exciting, whenever the 
necessity arises, their utmost abhorrence of all ob¬ 
scene allusions, all impure and lewd language—of all 
unchastity, in whatever form it may be exhibited. 

Another point which deserves special attention in 
our negative provision for the health of the young, 
is to check and prevent all ebullitions of passion, and 
use every means for promoting their uninterrupted 
cheerfulness. In this connexion we may repeat, that 
the games of boys, which furnish incitements to active 
exertion, and the best means of recreation, not only 
deserve, but require superintendence and wise direc¬ 
tion. 

Violent affections of the mind, such as fear and an¬ 
ger, jealousy and envy, desire of revenge, as w ell as 
effeminate sensibility, are very prejudicial to health ; 
while, on the other hand, the influence of the gentler 
and more agreeable emotions is decidedly beneficial. 

With respect to the proper treatment of the sick, 
we only observe, that children should be accustomed 
to bear pain with fortitude, and to bear up under indis¬ 
position as long as possible. Many parents do all 
they can to make children commiserate themselves 
whenever an accident befalls them or they are un¬ 
well. This absurd practice should be studiously 
avoided. It is best to make light of falls and other 
accidents; turn them into a joke, and the child will 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


185 


laugh at them instead of crying. If the accident be 
more serious, it is still better to cheer up the little suf¬ 
ferer than to magnify the evil by lachrymose speeches 
of wo-begone condolence. The practice of teaching 
children to beat the floor on which they have fallen, 
to strike the table against which they have run their 
heads, is to be utterly reprobated, as systematic train¬ 
ing to the indulgence of vindictive passion. 

Boarding-schools must, of necessity, provide a suit¬ 
able sick-department, and it is a very important con 
cern of their superintendents to obtain the services of 
a sensible and faithful matron to take care of the 
sick. One who has herself been a mother should al¬ 
ways be preferred. The matron should possess sa¬ 
gacity to detect, and firmness to resist all needless in¬ 
trusion into the sick-chamber; for while the really ill 
should be treated with due tenderness and care, those 
who are subject to the camp-fever, i. e., feign sick¬ 
ness in order to get rid of school, should find no en¬ 
couragement to resort to the sick-department. From 
this department all luxurious indulgences should be 
carefully banished. Make every provision for the 
wants and the comfort of the sick, but furnish no 
temptations to those who are well to pretend or im¬ 
agine that they are sick. To those who are in health, 
the sick-department should present no attractions, 
lest, by their frequent visits and lounging about, they 
waste their own time, and become burdensome to the 
sick, while they are themselves beyond the restraints 
of supervision. 

The following additional remarks on the physical 
treatment and education of infants, were communi¬ 
cated, at our request, by an esteemed friend and high¬ 
ly intelligent and successful physician, expressly for 
the present work. They give little more than hints on 
a subject to which a separate volume might be profit¬ 
ably devoted. We hope they may awaken attention, 
and prove effectual in correcting mischievous prac¬ 
tices, and induce many to adopt a more judicious 
mode of treating their children. 

“The present age is pre-eminently distinguished 

Q2 


186 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

for the attention which is bestowed upon the moral 
and physical training of the young. It is pleasing to 
the philanthropist to observe the wise and good of the 
civilized world devoting their energies to these im¬ 
portant subjects. The laws governing the moral and 
physical constitution of infantile existence are thus 
brought, more and more fully, to light, and rules of 
treatment, in harmony with those laws, are adopted 
and practised. 

“ Our purpose in furnishing the present communi¬ 
cation is to treat of a few of the more prominent er¬ 
rors in the physical management of infants. It is 
unquestionably true, that from one fourth to one third 
of the children, born in the most favoured communi¬ 
ties upon earth, are carried otf by death before they 
reach the period of childhood, or the age of two years, 
and from one third to one half before the age of five 
years is attained. The bills of mortality, published 
annually in Europe as well as in this country, most 
fully establish these melancholy facts. Does not a 
strong presumption, then, arise from developments of 
this nature, that great errors are committed by those 
upon whom devolves the care of infantile life 1 We 
discover no similar fatality among the young of the 
brute creation, whose structure most nearly resembles 
that of man, and which are guided, in the treatment 
of their offspring, by an unerring instinct. Man is left 
to his boasted prerogative, reason, to guide him in this 
momentous business. In order, then, that he may 
perform his duty appropriately and successfully, it is 
self-evident that he should make himself acquainted 
with the elementary principles of that nature, of which 
the young being intrusted to his care is a specimen. 
We do not mean to assert that a thorough knowledge 
of anatomy, physiology, and medicine is necessary to 
parents, in order to stay this widespread desolation 
of human life; but prejudice and erroneous customs, 
having nothing but antiquity to recommend them, 
•should give place to reason and observation, guided 
by experience and the advice of medical men. The 
several popular works on these subjects, now access!- 


AND INSTRUCTION. , 187 

ble to every one, and accommodated to the most mod¬ 
erate capacity, should also be consulted. 

“ Contemplate, for a moment, the condition of the 
infant, previous to its being ushered into a state of in¬ 
dependent existence. It enjoys a tranquil state of 
growth and nutrition, wholly dependant upon a por¬ 
tion of its mother’s organism. Those organs which 
connect us with the external world are then in a state 
of inactivity and repose. The function of respiration 
is not yet needed, other organs being provided for ef¬ 
fecting the necessary changes in the blood. The di¬ 
gestive organs have not yet been called upon to re¬ 
ceive aliment, and to fit it for the uses of the system, 
all sustenance being, as yet, elaborated by the parent; 
the muscular system has not yet been excited into ac¬ 
tion, there being no feeling, no intellect, no will to 
need or control it. 

“ But the connexion is severed: how great the 
change! what a revolution in the infant’s mode of 
existence! In a moment it passes from a state of 
unconscious repose to life, and light, and action; 
from mere vegetative to independent animal exist¬ 
ence. A multitude of new and important relations 
are established between its tender and delicate organ¬ 
ism and the countless objects of external nature. The 
current of the circulation finds new channels, and aban¬ 
dons those heretofore the conduits of the vital fluid. 
The digestive, assimilative, and respiratory functions, 
hitherto dormant, must now originate their primary 
movements. Animal heat, until now furnished by the 
parent, must hereafter be elaborated by its own or¬ 
gans. Until this moment guarded by the mother’s 
sensations, its own nerves must now warn it of im¬ 
pressions made by external objects. How important, 
then, that the treatment of the infant should be in har¬ 
mony with the feeble demands of its constitution, and 
adapted to the incipiency of its delicate organism. 
How absurd and preposterous to abandon the plain 
indications of nature, and to expose the infant to a 
regime better suited to adolescence, with a view to 
render hardy, to invigorate, and nourish. No wonder 


J 


188 A SLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

that the garner of death is filled by so large a pro¬ 
portion of infants not a month old, while many of 
those that survive this period eke out a miserable ex¬ 
istence of but a few months longer: the vital princi¬ 
ple being reduced so low, that teething, or any of tlm 
milder diseases common to infancy, furnish a ready 
avenue out of this world, to them peculiarly one of 
suffering and distress, short as their career in it may 
have been. 

“We are persuaded, from extensive opportunities of 
observation, and very special attention to this subject, 
that deficient clothing, inappropriate food, and im¬ 
proper domestic medical treatment, constitute the 
three principal errors in the physical training of in¬ 
fants. We shall, therefore, briefly notice these three 
causes of disease and death among children, our lim¬ 
its not admitting of our entering more extensively 
into the subject. 

“ 1. Inadequate protection from cold. The sudden tran¬ 
sition from a long-continued and uniform tempera¬ 
ture of 98° to one of 60°, or even lower, we should 
suppose, would severely try the vital resistance to 
morbid action of the adult; how much more that of 
the infant! It is reasonable to infer that infants are 
capable of generating a much smaller amount of 
heat proportionally than adults, because all their 
bodily functions are yet in a state of incipiency. 
Physiology teaches that animal heat is generated 
principally by the functions of respiration, circulation, 
and innervation. These are, in infants, necessarily 
feeble and imperfect, and hence exposure to cold is 
met by a very imperfect resistance. Respiration and 
the nervous influence commence their first move¬ 
ments at birth, while the circulation finds new chan¬ 
nels ; having been hitherto confined in a great meas¬ 
ure to the skin, which is extremely vascular, it is 
now directed towards the internal viscera, which 
have not yet been excited fully to the performance 
of their appropriate functions. We can have no dif¬ 
ficulty, then, in deciding, a priori, that the exposure of 
infants to a low temperature, whether from deficient 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


189 


or improper clothing, will prove injurious to them. 
In accordance with this are the experiments of Doc¬ 
tors Edwards and Villerme, of France, made upon 
young, warm-blooded animals, by which it was in¬ 
contestably proven that their temperature decreases 
very rapidly at an atmospheric temperature which 
had no effect upon adults; for example, when new¬ 
born dogs and cats were taken away from the parent, 
and exposed even to a moderate degree, they were 
chilled even to the very point of death. 

“ The researches of Doctors Fontanelle and Trevi¬ 
sano, of Italy, also sustain these views ; from them we 
draw the following conclusions: 1. That out of one 
hundred children born during the winter months, six¬ 
ty-six die in the first month of life. 2. Out of one 
hundred born in summer, only seventeen die during 
the first month. 3. Out of one hundred born in spring 
and in autumn, only about one half die during the 
first year; and, 4. That the mortality is greater among 
children born in northern than among those born in 
southern climates. 

“ From these physiological principles and facts, so 
clearly ascertained, it is evident that infants should 
be furnished with a greater amount of clothing than 
adults. Agreeably, however, to the present mode of 
attiring infants, especially in fashionable life, not only 
are they more thinly clad than the parent, but large 
portions of the surface are wholly uncovered. No¬ 
thing is more common than to see children with their 
arms, necks, and upper portions of the chest bare, 
thus exposing these parts to the continued sedative 
influence of a low temperature. 

“ When we reflect on the close sympathy that exists 
between the skin and the internal organs of the body, 
we have, under such circumstances, no difficulty in 
deciding upon the probable cause of disease in the 
liver, lungs, stomach, bowels, and brain; and hence 
croup, catarrh, fever, diarrhcea, cholera, and convul¬ 
sions are frequent consequences, but constitute parts 
only of that wide outlet to infant life which deficient 
clothing creates. Some endeavour to justify their 


190 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

practice by maintaining that such exposure is calcu¬ 
lated to inure their children to the impressions of cold, 
and to render them hardy. This may be the result 
with those who have stamina sufficient to survive the 
experiment, but, before the system is thus invigora¬ 
ted, the child may be carried off by some inflamma¬ 
tory affections produced by such exposure. I have 
often had occasion to admire the ruddy health which 
characterizes the children of the plain people of the 
country, who, in matters of this kind, follow the indi¬ 
cations of nature and the dictates of common sense. 
These cover, from the commencement, the entire sur¬ 
face of their children in winter with warm flannel, and 
in summer with cotton; they rarely have any diseases 
among their children except such as are natural, and 
these, in a majority of instances, are so mild as not 
to require medical treatment. I do not remember, 
during a practice of fourteen years, to have been 
called to a case of croup, catarrh, or cholera in such a 
family; and I have frequently met with such fami¬ 
lies, who had raised from ten to fourteen children 
without having at any time had occasion to call in a 
physician. The pure air of the country, I am aware, 
also exerts a healthful influence; but we have there 
also seen undue exposure producing disease ; while 
in town we have known many instances of ameliora¬ 
ted health, by the adoption of more suitable clothing, 
in families whose children had previously suffered in 
consequence of improper clothing. 

“ 2. Inappropriate food. The digestive organs of the 
newborn babe have not, as yet, been exercised, hav¬ 
ing been in a quiescent and passive state during the 
whole period of gestation. The stomach has not yet 
been distended, and participates in the universal deli¬ 
cacy of the whole organism. The question now pre¬ 
sents itself very forcibly, what substance can be found 
in nature, sufficiently bland and nutritious, and suita¬ 
ble for so delicate an organ 1 The benevolent Author 
of all being has made the most appropriate provision 
in the milk of the mother, the proper and only food 
for the infant; art cannot supply, nor does nature af- 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


191 


lord, any adequate substitute for this fluid. When the 
child is applied to the mother, at from six to eight 
hours after birth, it receives a watery fluid which pos¬ 
sesses laxative properties. This excites the stomach 
and bowels to action, and frees them from the tena¬ 
cious, dark-green substance, the expulsion of which 
is necessary to prepare them for the exercise of their 
proper functions. In due time, more nutritious milk 
is furnished, in sufficiently large quantities to nourish 
the infant until the first teething. Should the secre¬ 
tion of milk not be fully established even before the 
third day, it is unnecessary to substitute as food any 
extraneous substances. The idea entertained by 
some that the child has been fasting all the while, is 
erroneous, for to the last moment of its connexion 
with the mother it has been supplied with a rich and 
nutritious blood, prepared expressly for its support; 
so that, in fact, instead of fasting, it has just finished 
a continuous meal of nine months. 

“ But, notwithstanding the admirable provision so 
bountifully made, and so benevolently adjusted to the 
peculiar wants and condition of the helpless being in¬ 
trusted to our care, it is scarcely ushered into exist¬ 
ence, and invested in its disease-inviting habiliments, 
when a system of drenching and stuffing is commen¬ 
ced. A mixture of molasses and water, of salt and 
water, manna tea, or even some of the common pur¬ 
gatives, is first given, to purge off the meconium or 
green matter already mentioned. This is usually the 
first offence. We have already made it appear that 
this is unnecessary f but positive injury is also in¬ 
flicted by creating irritation on the tender surface of 
the alimentary canal, not only producing pain, but un¬ 
fitting it for the digestive process which is subsequent¬ 
ly to take place. The pain thus induced robs the child 
of repose and sleep, and causes wakefulness and fret¬ 
ting ; the latter is looked upon as a symptom of hun¬ 
ger ; it is forthwith decided that ‘ the child must be 

* “ It will be borne in mind that the writer here assiiraes that the mother 
is in a healthy state, actuary furnishing her infant with what its Maker 
has intended for it.” 


192 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 


fed after having fasted so long,’ and straightway an 
ample bowl of panada, thick pap, grated cracker and 
tea, or some other equally improper article of diet is 
prepared, and the stuthng commences, which is re¬ 
peated at regular intervals; increased, however, so 
soon as colic, which is one of the invariable results 
of such treatment, sets in. When the proper time ar¬ 
rives for the milk to be secreted, the child has already 
been broken to the spoon^ and, in a great measure, lost 
its instinctive knowledge of sucking, as also its desire 
for food, for by this time it is racked with colic-pains, 
flatulency, vomiting, and diarrhoea. The consequence 
is, that the spoon is, at least in part, continued; the 
mother’s breasts are not drawn; they swell and be¬ 
come painful by distension ; disturbed rest, and expo¬ 
sure to the chilly night-air in .consequence of atten¬ 
tions to the suffering infant, bring on chills, fever, and 
inflammation, followed by abscess in the breasts, loss 
of milk causing much suffering and distress to both 
mother and child. In the mean time, the infant, which 
was plump and full of vigour when born, becomes pale 
and emaciated ; diseases of various kinds, in addition 
to those already mentioned, invade the enfeebled 
frame, under the influence of one or the other of 
which it pines away and dies. Many, however, have 
a sufficiency of stamina to enable them to survive 
these severe trials; but we have most abundant rea¬ 
son to believe that, in such cases, the foundations of 
disease in after life are thus early laid. It is errone¬ 
ously supposed that the nourishment afforded by the 
mother is, after a few months, insufficient to sustain 
the health and life of the infant. We would lay it 
down as a general rule, that when the mother is 
healthy, the infant needs no additional food before the 
commencement of the first teething, which usually 
takes place about the seventh month. The first food 
given should differ in its properties as little as possi¬ 
ble from that which the infinitely wise Creator has 
himself supplied for the first stage of human life. 

“ To remedy the hurtful effects of insufficient cloth¬ 
ing and improper diet, recourse is had to carminatives 


'AND INSTRUCTION. 193 

and opiates, and this leads us to consider the last er¬ 
ror above mentioned. 

“ 3. Improper domestic medical treatment. Were prop¬ 
er attention paid to infants in their diet and clothing, 
medical treatment would rarely become necessary. 
So soon, however, as the train of symptoms already 
detailed begins to manifest itself, the mother, or more 
officious nurse, without instituting any inquiry as to 
the cause, and the possibility of its removal to the 
immediate relief of the little sufferer, forthwith ad¬ 
ministers some portion of active medicine, to be re¬ 
peated as occasion may require, until they become 
alarmed, and send for their medical adviser, who is 
gravely informed ‘ that the child took slightly ill, and 
that, notwithstanding full and repeated doses of calo¬ 
mel, magnesia, rhubarb, or laudanum were given, it 
continued getting worse and worse!’ But, not con¬ 
tent with giving drugs when disease is supposed to be 
present, many mothers are in the habit of constantly 
keeping and administering one or more of the many 
opiate nostrums and cordials, merely in order to quiet 
the child or to procure it sleep. The basis of all 
these preparations consists of opium. The almost 
invariable effect of these is to impair the powers of 
the stomach, to retard the development and growth 
of the body, to injure the nervous system, and to in¬ 
duce a state of the entire system adverse to the health 
and life of the child. But the evil of indulging in the 
use of opiates does not stop in merely producing dis¬ 
ease, for death is very frequently the result. Agree¬ 
ably to a report printed by order of the House of 
Commons in England, it appears that, of all inquests 
held in England and Wales in 1837 and 1838 in cases 
of death from poison, one seventh of the whole num¬ 
ber resulted from the carelessness of mothers and 
nurses in administering opiates, with the properties 
of which they were unacquainted. Mr. Brown, the 
coroner of Nottingham, England, also reports that 
great numbers of children are annually destroyed 
in that borough by the use of ‘ Godfrey’s Cordial.’ 
There are, doubtless, many such cases which never 
R 


194 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

become subjects of official notice, and the cause of 
death is reported as unknown. The majority of ca¬ 
ses of this kind are the result of errors as regards the 
particular article intended to be administered, or in the 
amount of the dose. Cases of this kind frequently 
come under the observation of the physician : we will 
mention the following two out of many which we 
might adduce: 

“ Mrs. C., of N., had been in the habit of administer¬ 
ing laudanum to her infant son; the dose was gradual¬ 
ly increased until she gave eleven drops at a time. 
The opiate was then discontinued for several months, 
during which period the acquired capacity to receive 
so large a portion with apparent impunity was lost; 
the laudanum, also, being in a vial closed with a pa¬ 
per stopper, became much stronger in consequence 
of the evaporation which had taken place. The 
mother, however, ignorant of this, supposing a dose 
of laudanum necessary, gave the child twenty drops, 
because he was several months older than when she 
was in the habit of giving him eleven drops. The ef¬ 
fect was a state of narcotism, which would certainly 
have proved fatal had not active measures been 
adopted soon after the laudanum had been given. 

“ The other case was also in N. Mrs. M. was in the 
habit of administering ‘ Godfrey’s Cordial’ to her in¬ 
fant. Her vial being empty, she gave it to her broth¬ 
er, and requested him to have it filled. When he ar¬ 
rived at the apothecary’s, he could not remember the 
name of the article; but he ‘knew that laudanum 
would make babies sleep:’ he accordingly procured 
it. His sister gave the dose she was wont to give, 
a teaspoonful (holding sixty drops), to her infant, 
aged three months and two days, and laid it upon the 
bed. Having other family matters to attend to, she 
did not look at her child until more than an hour after 
she had given the opiate, when, to her inexpressible 
surprise and alarm, she found it in convulsions. We 
were sent for, and found her, with her babe in her 
arms, frantic with grief; for she had already discov¬ 
ered the error. The case appeared hopeless; but the 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


195 


almost immediate introduction of the stomach-tube, 
by means of which the stomach was entirely freed 
from the poison remaining in it, and by other appro¬ 
priate means, with a view to counteract the poison-, 
ous eifects of the portion which had found its way 
into the circulation prior to the evacuation of the 
stomach, proved successful in saving the child. It 
cost us the labour of a night, but there was a joy in 
the morning in that mother’s breast which repaid us 
amply for all our watching and labour. We might 
state cases of this kind which terminated in death, 
but we forbear. 

“ Although we designed, in the commencement, to 
confine ourselves to a few hints on these three prin¬ 
cipal errors, which obtain in the physical education of 
infancy, we cannot, under this last head, refrain from 
adverting to the moral effect of opiates, when regu¬ 
larly administered to infants. The effect of this nar¬ 
cotic is to obtund the sensibilities of the nervous sys¬ 
tem ; to becloud that sprightly vivacity, which gives 
an irresistible charm to the speaking countenance of 
the infant; to induce stupor—narcotism. We may 
easily conceive that permanence may be given to 
these effects by a frequent and long-continued use of 
this poison, just at a time when the brain and the ner¬ 
vous system, the organs of the soul, are being called 
into exercise, and manifest their earliest develop¬ 
ments. W^e have met with several cases in which 
the children of sprightly and intelligent parents were 
dull, inactive, and stupid at adult age, notwithstand¬ 
ing they had had good opportunities of education; 
and, on making inquiry, our suspicions were verified 
by the information that during infancy those persons 
had, daily and regularly, portions of quieting medi¬ 
cines administered to them; and that, when an ex¬ 
traordinary engagement on the part of the mother, 
whether at home or abroad, had required it, a double 
portion had been given. But the moral malady thus 
induced extends still farther. In the majority of the 
male members of those families, there seemed to ex¬ 
ist a natural propensity to intemperance. 


196 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 


“ Never can I forget the heart-rending self-reproach¬ 
es of an intelligent Christian mother, who is now, we 
trust, in heaven. In speaking to me of the case of 
her son, she exclaimed, ‘ Alas ! my poor, wandering, 
forlorn, lost, firstborn son! He was intemperate 
from his boyhood; and 0 I mine is the guilt, for I 
made him a drunkard. He was a cross and fretful 
child ; I gave him stimulating cordials and opiates; 
he continued to crave them when several years old; 
and ever after, when he could obtain spirits of any 
kind, he would have them. Thus I made him what he 
is. O! that I had withheld from him the pernicious 
drugs I My poor, lost boy!’ ” 

b. Bodily Exercise. Gymnastics. 

The exercise and development of the body is of ob¬ 
vious importance, not only in a mechanical point of 
view, with reference to profitable employment, nor 
in a physical or medical sense alone, i. e., in respect 
of health, but also in an aesthetic sense, i. e., with re¬ 
gard to gracefulness of carriage and motion. From 
these three considerations it is evident that gymnas¬ 
tics deserves the special attention of those to whom 
the education of youth is intrusted. 

It may be divided into mechanical, common, or nat¬ 
ural, and into aesthetic, elegant, or artistical gymnas¬ 
tics. 

Mechanical gymnastics includes everything per¬ 
taining to the exercise of the body by manual labour. 
It may be said, however, to begin with walking and 
running. To this division belong all mechanical em¬ 
ployments which are calculated duly to develop the 
physical organs. Here must also be mentioned ri¬ 
ding on horseback and swimming, considered as use¬ 
ful arts. This division of gymnastics may be termed 
natural, because children will acquire skill adequate 
to the purposes of exercise in all the varieties em¬ 
braced by it, if they be not subjected to unnatural 
coercion and oppression in a matter that ought to be 
made as agreeable as possible, which, unhappily, is 
very often the case. 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


197 


The province of elegant or aesthetic gymnastics is 
to develop those physical organs w^hich, apart from 
all actual, tangible profit, give strength to man, invest 
him with agility and grace, and enhance the beauty 
peculiar to the human frame. 

In every system of gymnastics, dancing holds a 
prominent place, and is, undeniably, highly promotive 
of elegance of carriage and motion; yet its connex¬ 
ion with fashionable dissipation and its moral influ¬ 
ence are of such a character, that, while we lament 
that no suitable substitute for it can be found, we can 
in no wise recommend it. 

To proceed, therefore, to other gymnastic exerci¬ 
ses, we mention, first, running, in which the degree of 
speed acquired will furnish a good test of the develop¬ 
ment of muscular strength, as well as the flexibility 
of the joints and the capability of the limbs to endure 
protracted exertion. 

Wrestling, when under proper control, is favoura¬ 
ble to the development of the sinews and joints of the 
upper part of the body, while running is more advan¬ 
tageous to the lower extremities. 

Jumping, in which the arms also are often much 
exercised, is an important branch of gymnastics. 
We distinguish two varieties, the upward and the for¬ 
ward jump. The former consists either in jumping 
up and immediately coming down again, or in jump¬ 
ing upward to a more elevated position. The latter is 
performed either without extraneous aids, or with the 
assistance of the pole. All these exercises, if con¬ 
trolled with care and judgment, will have a very fa¬ 
vourable influence in developing the bodily organs for 
agility, energy, and elegance of motion. 

All the various games of ball, and the like, in which 
boys are fond of engaging, constitute an important 
branch of gymnastics : and to what has been said of 
these, we would add a few general observations. 

The tendency of the present age is entirely too 
bookish. Compends in every department of science 
abound, and children study philosophy, mental and 
moral, and natural science in its various branches, be- 
R3 


198 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

fore they are capable of understanding anything of the 
subjects presented. Pedantry and affectation come 
into the place of the artlessness and the unassuming 
docility of childhood. We rejoice to see the higher de¬ 
partments of knowledge made more generally access¬ 
ible than in times past. In our country especially, 
liberal education must become general. But “ there 
is a time for all things,” says the wise man; and all 
things have their necessary limits. In connexion 
with the rage for book-learning, the impression seems 
to have gone abroad that children and youth should 
be no longer suffered to play, but, in order to keep up 
with “ the march of mind,” they should be early con¬ 
fined to their lessons, and learn to look grave and 
knowing when their elders discuss matters of science, 
and even to prate learnedly and wisely in literary 
circles. We are running into extremes, which many 
wise and good men have long deplored ; and we, for 
one, desire to plead for the rights and interests of 
childhood and youth. Give your children ample time 
to play ; encourage them to play; help them to play. 
They will then learn, not only more wdllingly and 
cheerfully, but more successfully, during the time ne¬ 
cessarily devoted to books. The course so generally 
pursued at present results, after all, in the attainment 
of only a very superficial knowledge, which is never 
digested. By sound physical health and a flow of an¬ 
imal spirits, the healthy tone and activity of their 
minds, in maturer years, are much more effectually 
secured than by early confinement to the many text¬ 
books of the day ; and when they reach those years 
in which the sciences may be studied understandingly, 
and therefore profitably, they will possess a mental 
vigour which modern methods of education are calcu¬ 
lated, in a great measure, to destroy. These games, 
or other varieties of gymnastic exercise, should be 
continued during the whole course of education. One 
of the greatest evils prevailing at our colleges—one 
that fills their halls with sallow faces and languid bod¬ 
ies, is a deficiency, or entire absence in many instan¬ 
ces, of suitable exercise. 


AND INSTRUCTION. 199 

Every boarding-school should possess several suit¬ 
able play-grounds, one for each section of pupils. 

In the years of childhood and early youth, all these 
gymnastic exercises ought to be engaged in systemat¬ 
ically, i. e., according to a regular plan. But they 
may be diminished in proportion as the physical and 
intellectual energies of the youth increase. As the 
young approach the age of manhood, the necessity of 
stated hours for gymnastic exercises should be super¬ 
seded by the voice of nature and common sense, 
which will loudly forbid every student who has a re¬ 
gard for his health, physical and intellectual, to neg¬ 
lect exercises which are so essential to both. 

c. Education for the True Enjoyment of Life. 

Love of a simple and moderate enjoyment of the 
things of this life is essential to the healthy life of the 
soul. The blessings of t*rovidence are bestowed for 
our happiness—to cheer our progress through this 
earthly existence. This design is frustrated, as well 
when we make the good things of life the objects of 
covetous and anxious care and burning desire, as 
when we indulge in the excessive enjoyment of them. 
Cheerfulness and moderation! This cheerful dispo¬ 
sition ought to be cultivated in children : nor will 
this be a difficult task, as morose and unsociable minds 
are an exception to the general rule. 

Those who multiply artificial wants are mistaken 
if they imagine that they contribute to the real enjoy¬ 
ment of life. A strong desire for a variety of enjoy¬ 
ments is a mental disease, which we should not seek 
to heighten, but to cure. 

Everything will depend upon a wise combination of 
the ideals of comfort and discomfort, and hence on a 
just estimate of what must be termed luxury. 

Luxury, i. e., the influence of refinement upon the 
multiplication of wants, presents itself to our consid¬ 
eration under three aspects. First, that of ease or 
comfort; second, of fashion; third, of mental culture, 
». e., such culture as will qualify for the enjoyment of 
a luxurious mode of living. 


200 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 


Love of ease and fashion are the guides that con¬ 
duct to effeminacy, to worldly folly and frivolity; 
they are in themselves worthless, and have no claim 
on our attention. But the mental culture above re¬ 
ferred to demands farther notice, and requires that 
we should attend to its proper direction. With re¬ 
gard to a wise mode of living, we should endeavour to 
give children clear ideas, and more particularly exert 
a healthy influence upon them, by setting them a good 
example. The examples of the wise and good of ev¬ 
ery age should be held up to those who have reached 
the age of youth. It requires much prudence and 
judgment to manage suitably the treatment of chil¬ 
dren, in view of their general mode of living. In fit¬ 
ting them for the true enjoyment of life, all the vari¬ 
ous methods connected with the different departments 
of education must, in their due measure, co-operate. 
The reader will himself trace the bearings of subse¬ 
quent discussions on the subject here considered. 


CHAPTER II. 

Intellectual Culture, aiming at the Development of the 
Understanding for the Perception of Truth. 

The course of development taken by the human 
mind in the culture of the intellect proceeds from the 
external sense to language; from the impressions re¬ 
ceived from the outward objects through the medium 
of the senses, to the expression of these impressions in 
words. Next follows the exertion of the memory, 
often connected with the imagination; then, and but 
gradually, comes attention; and lastly, through the 
exercise of attention, and by the active employment 
of the internal sense, the power of thought is devel¬ 
oped and brought into action. Many remain stran¬ 
gers to that effort of the mind which is called think¬ 
ing, even to the later years of youth. 

Education must here adapt its methods to the 
course of nature, and aim only at guidance and direc¬ 
tion. Much injury is done by urging the youthful 
mind to premature efforts ; by seeking preternaturally 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


201 


to develope its active but still slumbering powers. 
We need scarcely observe, that all the faculties above 
named must, at a certain age, be simultaneously ex¬ 
ercised and cultivated. 

Young children live entirely in the external world, 
and therefore this age should be carefully improved 
for the development and cultivation of their outward 
senses, especially those of sight, hearing, and smell. 
As this branch of education is much neglected, we 
would direct attention to it through the following ob¬ 
servations, which are taken substantially from tho 
excellent work of Schwarz. 

Properly cultivated and well-trained senses consti¬ 
tute an important mark of difference between man 
and the lower animals. They are the avenues through 
which stores of raw material are conveyed into the 
workshop of the mind. If you suffer but little to pass 
through them, and confine the attention of children to 
a small number of objects, and to a particular view of 
them, you limit the free development of the capacity 
of the senses, and condemn it to poverty. If you 
leave all to nature, no readiness or distinctness of ob¬ 
servation is acquired; the impressions, vague and 
confused, would confuse the mind itself, and surren¬ 
der it to mere sensual excitement. And then man be¬ 
comes more beastly than the beast, which is indemni¬ 
fied by its instinct for the want of what we possess 
in the power of attention. 

In cultivating and training the senses, our object 
should be, 

1. That each sense may perceive acutely and cor¬ 
rectly, and by attaining vigour and firmness of capaci¬ 
ty, make easy and copious acquisitions. 

2. iEsthetic observation, leading the senses to a 
sense of the beautiful, and developing particularly 
those of sight and hearing for the exercise of taste. 

3. The strengthening of the power of observation 
by means of the senses. 

1. The Sense of Sight. 

This is the first that is developed, and it is particu¬ 
larly susceptible of cultivation. 


202 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 


The eyes of children will always be turned towards 
the brightest object near them ; but they should not, 
in early infancy, be permitted to look at any very brill¬ 
iant light, for this is injurious to the eyes. On the 
other hand, by introducing them gradually from an 
artificial twilight to the full brightness of day, the 
sense of sight is strengthened. This may be done 
during the first weeks of life. Now let them distin¬ 
guish different objects, according to the various de¬ 
grees of light, and they will soon begin to notice dif¬ 
ferent forms and colours. Then accustom them so to 
fix their regards on single objects as to recognise 
them when they see them again. Show them, as 
frequently as possible, natural objects, such as birds, 
flowers, trees, &c., and teach them to distinguish col¬ 
ours. They may thus learn, at two years of age, to 
distinguish several varieties of the same colour. 
Even before they speak, repeat to them often the 
names of many objects; after this, frequently pro¬ 
nounce certain names in a tone of inquiry, while 
pointing to the things mentioned; and soon, when 
they begin to speak, they will, even when not called 
upon to do so, frequently point out such objects, and 
mention their names. 

Then take them out, also, into the moonlight, and 
let them recognise various objects : carry them out in 
dark nights. 

Thus they will early learn to find their way in the 
dark without mistaking the stems of trees for men. 
Let them not closely examine minute objects in the 
twilight, for this injures the eyes ; but direct their at¬ 
tention early to the starry heavens, pointing out to 
them stars of peculiar brightness, as well as particu¬ 
lar groups. This will produce a strong impression, 
and a singular interest in young minds, and some¬ 
times even elicit poetic sparks. 

Accustom them also to discern and distinguish ob¬ 
jects at a distance, as well as to observe accurately 
objects in rapid motion, and to discover a given ob¬ 
ject among a number of moving ones. Take them to 
elevated positions, such as high towers or steeples, 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


208 


and let them look down : this will preserve them from 
the infirmity of giddiness, to which so many are sub- 
ject for want of proper training. Such treatment 
will give children, at seven years of age, acute and 
accurate habits of vision. 

But it will now be necessary to continue the proper 
cultivation of this sense by regular exercises. 1. In 
observing: let the children recognise near and dis¬ 
tant objects in different degrees of light, and name 
every object within sight. Begin with single objects, 
then proceed to several, and finally to groups. Let 
them recognise objects, and even read at distances 
gradually increased. Then let the forms of lines and 
figures be noted, named, and drawn, e. g., perpendicu¬ 
lar, oblique, circular, &c. Continue to practise them 
in distinguishing colours. Finally, accustom them to 
make accurate estimates of the dimensions of objects, 
and of their relative distances. 

2. In an aesthetic point of view: the previous 
training will teach them accurately to distinguish the 
outlines of a leaf, a tree, &c., and this, with suitable 
instruction, will enable them to draw such objects 
correctly; and as, in so doing, their attention is di¬ 
rected to the real form and dimensions of the objects 
as they appear within the sphere of vision, i. e., to 
perspective, they will thus learn to draw masses or 
groups, without having their sense of the picturesque 
disturbed by the thought of the reality. In this prac¬ 
tice great advantage will be derived from showing 
them painted landscapes, and letting them compare 
these with the appearance of the real landscape be¬ 
fore them. With such training, they may learn, at 
fourteen years of age, to discern picturesque land¬ 
scapes, or particularly picturesque features of them, 
and to collect these in their portfolios. A sense for 
the symbolical character of natural objects is best ex¬ 
cited by poetry. 

3. With regard to the strengthening of the power 
of observation by means of sight, we have nothing to 
add to the preceding. Various exercises might be 
recommended; but we shall only remark, that the 


204 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 


great object to be kept in view is to teach the young 
to discern and distinguish, with increasing acuteness 
and accuracy, both near and distant objects, and es¬ 
pecially to describe them in words. Let them begin 
with isolated, small objects, such as a leaf; then pro¬ 
ceed to a small plant; next to a tree; then take 
groups of trees, and finally an entire landscape, or 
whatever may lie within the sphere of vision. This 
describing in words should be first performed while 
the object is viewed, then with averted face, and 
lastly at home, after the lapse of some time, or after 
a walk. With these exercises, drawing from memory 
may be combined. It is astonishing what progress 
young persons will thus make, not only in acuteness, 
distinctness, and accuracy of vision, but in habits of 
order, in clearness of language, and in attention, be¬ 
sides enriching the memory with valuable treasures, 
and acquiring a keen sense of the picturesque. 

The advantage attained by a methodical training 
of the sense of sight is twofold. First, it leads to an 
extensive and accurate acquaintance with created 
objects. A multitude of the most important observa¬ 
tions and impressions are thus appropriated, in such 
a manner that they remain in the mind with truth¬ 
fulness, freshness, and clearness. The understanding 
thus acquires a fund of necessary material; an abund¬ 
ance of seed is deposited in the memory; a fruitful 
soil is presented to the fancy; and to the feelings, the 
wide field of the beautiful and the significant is thrown 
open. Thus, by means of the sense which is earliest 
active, the mind is endowed with the riches of ex¬ 
ternal creation, and thus enabled to prosecute its 
internal creations. 

But this advantage consists, in the second place, in 
the sharpening of the sense itself, in the training of 
the eye for enlarged and sagacious action, and is, in 
this sense, perhaps still more important. If the child 
is left to its natural observation, its eye will generally 
become indolent, and its soul sensual. The attention 
is not practised except by the animal instinct which 
calls for food; excited only by objects that are other- 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


205 


wise serviceable, or such as awaken fear; and thus 
the most valuable sense is in early life subjected and 
habituated to the service of the lower propensities, 
and the child becomes a slave of sensuality. If the 
child looks at objects only with a view to ascertain 
whether they may be eaten, we need not wonder if 
the countenance of the adult betrays nothing but ani¬ 
mal appetite and greediness. When the sense of sight 
is not early cultivated, it cannot be otherwise than 
that a sensual disposition must become dominant; 
and this will, in a great measure, account for the 
grovelling dispositions which characterize the unedu¬ 
cated classes, and for the more elevated and gener¬ 
ous qualities which distinguish those who have re¬ 
ceived a good education. Cicero seems to have per¬ 
ceived the necessity of such an education as is here 
contended for, when he wrote the following words: 
“ Nos ne nunc quidem cernimus ea, quae videmus; 
viae quasi quaedam sunt ad oculos, ad aures, ad nares 
a sede animi perforatae,” &c.—Cic., T. Q., i., 20. 

2. The Sense of Hearing. 

This sense is to be cultivated in a manner similar 
to the foregoing. Here, also, the objects to be aimed 
at are, 

1. Acuteness and accuracy of observation. Sounds 
are to be recognised and distinguished, their direction 
and distance to be estimated, &c. The attention is 
to be directed particularly to language. 

2. The aesthetic training of the ear. To this are 
conducive musical exercises, harmonious combina¬ 
tions of sounds, &c. 

3. The sharpening or strengthening of the mental 
faculty of observing by means of the ear. To this, 
practice in discerning very low sounds, distinguishing 
certain sounds amid loud and confused clamour, and 
the like, are subservient. 

It will be observed, in the first weeks of an infant’s 
life, that its sense of hearing is sensibly excited. Af¬ 
ter the lapse of a few more weeks it will notice par¬ 
ticular sounds, and it will now be well if it be fre- 
S 


206 A PLAN OP YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

quently addressed in a kindly tone of voice. Thus it 
will soon recognise the voice of its mother, and not 
be long in distinguishing that of other persons. There 
will be no harm done if there be various noises about 
infants, so they be not of a violent nature, for this 
keeps the sense of hearing in a state of activity, with¬ 
out causing it strong exertion. Besides the human 
voice, young children should be made to notice the 
sounds uttered by various domestic animals. 

When they begin to walk, call to them frequently 
at a distance, at one time with a loud voice, at anoth¬ 
er more softly; and thus, at two years of age, they 
will be accustomed to listen sharply. Now teach 
them to know different animals by their voices ; per¬ 
mit them occasionally to hear more violent noises, 
e. g., that of a mill; and sometimes speak to them in 
a very soft, scarcely audible tone. They may be 
taught, at the age of three years, to distinguish sever¬ 
al varieties of birds by their voices ; they will recog¬ 
nise with joyous feelings, among the voices of a num¬ 
ber of persons engaged in loud conversation, that of 
an acquaintance ; and not fail, in the midst of the 
clamour of play, to observe what their parents may say 
to them. If a piano-forte be played upon in the room 
which they frequent, they will soon be seen to note 
its tones attentively. The ear should be accustomed 
from early infancy to hear the tones of sweet song. 
In their fourth year, children may be taken to the pi¬ 
ano-forte, and made to listen to different series of 
tones ; first, the diatonic or natural scale, and the oc¬ 
taves ; then the fifths, and thirds, and other intervals ; 
and if their sense of hearing be not very obtuse, the 
ear will soon distinguish those tones correctly when 
they are sounded in their proper order of succession. 
By frequently repeating easy tunes for them, they 
will soon be led to endeavour to repeat them with the 
voice. Let this be their primary instruction in music, 
without subjecting them to constraint. In the course 
of a year, the ear will generally be sufficiently prac¬ 
tised to distinguish more complex musical combina¬ 
tions ; and at five years of age, formal instruction in 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


207 


music, especially in singing, may commence. The 
ear should be habituated to distinguish tones on dif¬ 
ferent, both wind and stringed, instruments; but no 
stunning noise, like that of the explosion of a gun or 
the sound of a drum, should be brought very near 
them, until the sense of hearing has, by gradual exer¬ 
cise, become strong enough to bear it; and even then 
it will be advisable to remove from them such sounds 
w’hose tendency it is to blunt the sense of hearing. 
With such training, children will, at six years of age, 
have a well-practised ear. Continue to practise them 
in distinguishing with increased accuracy, not only 
musical tones, but every variety of sounds, by which 
means they will acquire great readiness in distinguish¬ 
ing very soft sounds, and to point out the direction 
from which they come. It will be well, also, to give 
them something particular to listen to, while, at the 
same time, a loud noise is made. This cultivation of 
the sense of hearing may be continued by the follow¬ 
ing exercises. 

Blindfold the eyes of the child under training, and 
let him name those whose voices he hears. After 
some time, let a number of other children be station¬ 
ed at different distances from him, and let him, still 
blindfolded, specify whose voice he hears, and from 
what direction it comes. Again, let him state, with 
his eyes closed, what he hears another person do; 
describe the direction from which the voices of dif¬ 
ferent persons who are speaking reach him; or 
specify the particular body from which some peculiar 
sound is elicited. Again, let something be read, or 
names pronounced, and let the child repeat what he 
hears. Let a key be sounded on the piano-forte 
without his seeing it, and call upon him to find out 
what key has been struck; or let him, blindfolded, 
specify the particular tones that have been struck, 
with a variation in the succession of the intervals; 
and when his voice has been sufficiently practised, 
let him repeat the tones. Subsequent exercises will 
consist in hearing narratives, and then repeating 
them; in frequently hearing poetry read, and in ac- 


208 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

quiring a readiness at memorizing by hearing only, 
and in attending to oral commissions, of which many 
may be sometimes given at once. 

The first advantage accruing from the exercise of 
this sense consists partly in its acquaintance with a 
vast number and variety of sounds, and partly in the 
firm retention of observations and ideas, acquired 
through the other senses, which this sense secures to 
us by means of the words which designate them. 
The ear is the organ which, by means of spoken 
words, directly excites the understanding to form for 
itself clear ideas of objects ; it enriches and enlight¬ 
ens the memory; it excites the fancy by the pictures 
which it retains, and it unlocks the innermost sanc¬ 
tuary for the reception of intellectual and spiritual 
truth; for it is in the sense of hearing, and by means 
of the multitude of words familiar to it, that reason is 
particularly developed. But again, he that hears well 
has his mind fitted for an exact and thorough perform¬ 
ance of its different peculiar functions; he becomes 
more susceptible of the beautiful, in its higher mani¬ 
festations, as well as for the supernatural, and thus 
his taste is liberated from sensual trammels; the 
most sacred feelings are excited within him by words 
in which the sincerity of an affectionate heart ad¬ 
dresses him. It is this sense, by whose agency the 
earliest transition is made from attention to recollec¬ 
tion, to reflection, and to a respectful regard for the 
will of others : acute hearing awakes attention to the 
smallest word, however gently spoken, and this leads 
to obedience. If the ear, through the medium of 
sound, conducts us to a profound acquaintance with 
nature, it is, at the same time, the organ through 
which we hold communion with the spiritual world. 
As the inhabitants of the East heard the voice of God 
in the sound of thunder, the child hears it in the com¬ 
munications of its parents, and every pious heart in 
the word of wisdom. He that has become accus¬ 
tomed to mark attentively the words of others, pos¬ 
sesses an additional antidote against egotism. Pythag¬ 
oras regarded attentive listening as such a means of 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


209 


culture, and discovered in sounds a depth which might 
lead the soul to the enjoyment of the music of the 
spheres. It is undeniable that the sense of hearing 
is, in a high degree, subservient to the cultivation of 
harmony of soul, of purity of heart, of holy love, and 
of spiritual life; in which respect its importance is 
far from being adequately recognised. 

3. The Sense of Smell. 

On this sense, which is intermediate between the 
two higher and the two lower senses, we shall be 
brief. It has doubtless been given to man for higher 
purposes than to the brute. Through its instrumen¬ 
tality children are, 1. To learn to discover the near 
or more remote presence of things, such as smoke 
and fire, injurious or beneficial exhalations: 2. To 
enjoy purely agreeable odours, and to be invited and 
led to a certain secret sympathy with the life of 
nature : 3. To acquire the power of enduring, in cases 
of necessity, disagreeable smells, without prejudice 
to the acuteness of the sense. 

This sense is not likely to betray much activity be¬ 
fore children have reached their third year, and your 
first care should be to guard it against everything 
calculated to exert a blunting influence upon it. Suf¬ 
fer them not to frequent places where the air is im¬ 
pregnated with disagreeable odours; but, at the same 
time, forbear the application of strong odours of an 
agreeable nature. Let them, in the open and pure 
air, inhale the balsamic fragrance of the vegetable 
world. This will make them sensitive against all 
disagreeable smells, and careful to avoid what may 
be injurious to them, as well as teach them to dis¬ 
tinguish objects at a distance by their exhalations. 
Avoid stimulating the sense too highly by strong per¬ 
fumes ; but, on the other hand, accustom it early to 
relish the sweet odour of flowers. 

For a variety of exercises designed to develop and 
cultivate this sense, and for many other interesting 
observations in relation to it, we refer to Schwarz, vol. 
iii., p. 102, seqq. 


210 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 


4. The Sense of Taste. 

That this sense, also, is of importance to the un¬ 
derstanding, appears clearly from the multiplicity 
of words in ditferent languages by which its sensa¬ 
tions are designated, particularly in chemical science. 
This sense becomes negatively subservient to the 
higher feelings just in proportion as it is secured 
against gluttony, and habituated to the relish of sim¬ 
ple, healthy diet; and in this respect it may serve to 
illustrate what is called taste in a higher sense. The 
acquisition of such habits necessarily involves the 
proper cultivation, not only of the acuteness of the 
sense itself, but of the sagacity of the mind in em¬ 
ploying it; and its proper development is betokened 
as well by a keen and accurate distinction of different 
tastes, as by the elevation of the soul above the mere 
animal pleasure or disgust excited by them. 

An infant will, in the first months of its life, begin 
to distinguish between sweet, bitter, and sour ; and 
beyond this the cultivation of taste should not, at this 
early age, be attempted, in order that it may not 
lose its susceptibility of the teachings of nature ; for 
these are especially important to the sense of taste, 
because it is this sense which must guide us in the 
choice of food, without seducing the stomach into bad 
habits, contracted in consequence of the lustfulness 
of the appetite. Let, then, the early cultivation of 
this sense begin with your administering simple food; 
and put off acquainting the tongue with salt and spi¬ 
ces, that its energies be not blunted, and become pre¬ 
maturely susceptible of the stronger stimulants, and 
therefore lustful. An early fondness for sugar should 
also be guarded against. Children thus judiciously 
treated will so much the longer relish farinaceous 
food and milk, and they will find their chief luxury in 
what nature alone presents perfectly prepared to ev¬ 
ery one, namely, fruit. This treatment will preserve 
the organ of taste healthy and uncorrupted, so as to 
enable it to distinguish the different varieties of fruit 
with the utmost acuteness. 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


211 


Various exercises may be employed. Children 
may learn to distinguish different sorts of water by 
their taste ; and when chemical experiments are 
made, they may be taught, in the same way, to dis¬ 
tinguish the different salts, and to discover the constit¬ 
uent parts of various mixtures, &c. 

As there are many things that can be detected only 
by the taste, the cultivation of this sense has also its 
twofold use, in the same manner as the senses alrea¬ 
dy spoken of. It may be that in this way the purity 
of intellectual taste is soonest and best provided for; 
but certain it is that young persons gain, in a moral 
point of view, when the palate is the servant of the 
stomach only, while the latter is in the service of 
health, if the demands of the palate do not interfere 
with the exercise of the higher senses; and the pal¬ 
ate itself is capable of being extensively employed in 
the examination of various things. 

5. The Sense of Touch. 

However subordinate this twofold sense may be, 
belonging, seemingly, altogether to animal life, its 
cultivation is nevertheless of great importance to the 
culture of man. It is, in the first place, instrumental 
in the acquisition of many facts which are useful to 
man in determining accurately respecting the surface 
of objects, the surrounding atmosphere, &c. But, in 
the second place, it stands in the immediate service 
of aesthetic feeling, both negatively, by preservation 
from the slavery of animal gratification, and positive¬ 
ly, a ready tact in discerning well-formed surfaces, 
by the expressive touch of musical strings or keys, 
and by the lively enjoyment of nature’s pure air. Its 
cultivation tends, thirdly, to exercise the energies of 
the mind, by its being habituated to the endurance of 
heat and cold, and by being steeled, yet not unnatu¬ 
rally, against bodily pain. 

If children be not spoiled in their infancy by treat¬ 
ment which must render them effeminate, this sense 
will not become the instrument of subjecting them to 
their animal nature. By accustoming them gradual- 


212 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

ly to the endurance of heat and cold, and more espe¬ 
cially to the utmost cleanliness, their animal feeling 
will be in accordance with nature, invigorating to their 
physical organism, and promotive of the free activity 
of the mind. But great care should be taken to 
sharpen this sense; to practise it in observing, in its 
own peculiar organ, the hand. Children may thus, be¬ 
fore they are eight years old, acquire a multitude of 
ideas by means of an intelligent manipulation of bod¬ 
ies. These exercises may be continued by letting 
them examine surfaces by the touch. At the same 
time they should be more and more habituated to bear 
every degree of temperature, yet without exposing 
the nerves to the blunting influence of extremes. 

This sense may be suitably exercised by blindfold¬ 
ing children, and letting them recognise different 
coins by examining them between their fingers ; they 
should begin with the coarsest coins, and gradually 
proceed to the finer ones. In the same manner, let 
them estimate the number of leaves in a book ; rec¬ 
ognise and describe plants by the touch; and subse¬ 
quently teach them to become conscious of the pres¬ 
ence of a hand or other object held at some distance 
before the face. They may also be accustomed to rec¬ 
ognise persons by examining their faces with the 
fingers, or other objects submitted to their touch. 
At the same time, they may be made to perform vari¬ 
ous operations with their fingers while their eyes are 
bound up ; for example, guide the hand, and let them 
specify what they write : or let them write, and 
perform various other manual operations in the dark. 

Of special importance are musical exercises, in 
which the greater or less degree of force with which 
the key or string is struck deserves particular atten¬ 
tion. In order that accuracy in stating the degree of 
heat and cold may be acquired, let water be taken at 
various temperatures, and estimated according to the 
thermometer. In a similar manner, the hand may be 
practised in estimating different weights. 

The young will thus acquire a large amount of 
knowledge, which is necessary to render their ac- 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


213 


quaintance with the external world complete. An¬ 
other advantage they derive from such training is, 
that they become accustomed to distinguish between 
appearances and realities, attested by the evidence of 
the senses ; and that the sense under consideration is 
developed for the discernment of plastic beauty, for 
greater expression in musical performances, and for 
greater acuteness and correctness in general. There 
is reason to expect that a child habituated to exter¬ 
nal cleanliness will be likely to manifest a tender 
susceptibility for purity of soul, and that such exer¬ 
cises will be particularly useful for young females ; 
the more so, from their immediate connexion with va¬ 
rious female employments. It cannot be denied that 
this methodical treatment of this lower sense is cal¬ 
culated to preserve the freedom of the soul in the de¬ 
velopment and use of the higher senses. 

The author from whom this discussion of the best 
mode of developing the senses is derived, proceeds to 
expatiate on the treatment required in cases where 
one or more of the senses are wanting; but, as this 
subject does not fall within the scope of our plan, we 
shall only add a few general observations. With re¬ 
gard to those who are in the possession of all the 
senses, it is important to observe that no one sense 
ought to be developed at the expense of the others. 

It has already been observed that the uneducated 
are generally governed by the sense of taste, and that, 
consequently, the higher senses are generally em¬ 
ployed in the service of gross sensuality. If either of 
the higher senses be disproportionately cultivated to 
the neglect of the others, the effect on the mind must 
be to produce one-sidedness, and other evils which 
are to be deprecated. Not one of the senses, then, 
should be trained in preference to, or at the expense 
of, the others, but all should be fully developed, and 
judiciously cultivated in just equilibrium and pure 
harmony. And this is essential to the true culture of 
man. 

We resume, now, the thread which was broken by 


214 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

this long treatise on the cultivation of the outward 
senses, by proceeding to observe that language is the 
instrument which first unlocks to children the world 
of ideas; and it is this process by which they are in¬ 
vested with the peculiar characteristics of humanity. 
How important is it, then, that children should, from 
the very beginning, learn to speak correctly! Hence 
they must, at an early age, be carefully habituated to 
the use of correct language. Of course this practice 
ought to be natural, easy, and unconstrained ; not for¬ 
mal, made up of rules, which could only serve to make 
them young pedants. The most appropriate practice 
in speaking correctly will always consist in their 
hearing no other than correct language from those 
who address them, or converse with each other in 
their presence. 

Our readers will need nothing more to convince 
them of the necessity of such a course, than the 
recollection of the fact that children will imitate all 
they see and hear; therefore, let them have no 
other than pure and correct language to imitate. 
The foolish and childish dialect of the nursery is 
consequently not only useless, but injurious. The 
next step in the culture of the intellect consists in 
the exercise of the memory. Although some modern 
writers on pedagogics have treated the memory with 
indifference, we are persuaded that, in our day and 
country, the importance of carefully cultivating it is 
duly appreciated, and that, therefore, the following 
observations on the subject, derived substantially 
from Schwarz, will not be unwelcome to the reader. 

Cultivation of the Memory. 

We are then to observe, in cultivating the memory 
of children, that the retention of any subject involves 
the following three elements: 1. A clear and distinct 
impression; 2. Firm preservation; 3. Ready recollec¬ 
tion. The design, therefore, of cultivating the memo¬ 
ry is, that it may receive impressions easily, and thus 
accumulate stores of wealth, and acquire prompt and 
energetic freedom in the use of them. A faithful 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


215 


memory is one that retains impressions in their 
purity; one that retains many is a strong memory, 
and one that easily recalls them a happy one ; a good 
memory must possess all these qualities. We have 
seen that the memory is exercised by practising the 
eye to see correctly, and the ear to hear acutely, and 
by requiring children to repeat what they have seen 
and heard. Thus they become acquainted with things. 
The predominating principle here is constant repeti¬ 
tion. Children should be made to repeat very often 
what they have learned, for it is thus that they learn 
things perfectly by impressing them indelibly. “ Re- 
petitio mater studiorum.” “ Mnemosyne, the mother 
of the Muses.” “ Tantum scimus, quantum memoria 
tenemus.” Among all the faculties of the mind, the 
memory is considered to be most in need of practice 
in order to its becoming good. Not to strengthen it 
is synonymous with weakening it. This practice is 
rendered efficacious by the psychological laws of as¬ 
sociations, according to which, similar, synchronous, 
successive, externally or internally connected im¬ 
pressions or ideas are so interwoven with each other 
that one will call up the other. 

A principal requisite in practising the memory is, 
that the impressions be received in a manner lively, 
truthful, and distinct, and that the words by which 
they are conveyed have invariably a direct reference 
to correct observation; otherwise either something 
else than what is intended will be retained, or the im¬ 
pression will be untrue, wavering, and confused. The 
usual practice of memorizing has regard only to the 
forms of language; to names, words, and the like. 
But children should, above all things, be made to em¬ 
ploy their sight and hearing in observing for them¬ 
selves, and to revolve in their minds what is intended 
to be fixed in the memory; and this they should do 
with the clearest consciousness, and not be allowed, 
while professedly employed with one thing, to direct 
their attention to anything else. Even the locality 
where they thus learn is not unimportant. At first 
a secluded and quiet spot should be selected, but af- 


216 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

ter a while they may be accustomed to commit to 
memory in the midst of bustle, and circumstances 
which demand an effort in fixing the attention. Thus 
they will learn to remember what is observed merely 
in passing. 

The second requisite in this process of training is 
firmness of retention. As all modes of storing up 
like the arranging of books and other articles on their 
shelves, are here, of course, out of the question ; and 
as, on the other hand, a living, intellectual activity, 
which reproduces and vividly presents the same im¬ 
pression that has been made, and in the manner in 
which it was made, is required, retentiveness can con¬ 
sist only in a capacity to perform these operations, 
and can hence be acquired only by practice, i. c., by 
repetition. 

The third requisite consists in easy and prompt free¬ 
dom of recollection. This cannot be otherwise at¬ 
tained than by firmly connecting the impressions or 
ideas retained with one or more others, which are 
every moment at our command, and by which, there¬ 
fore, those impressions or ideas can at any time be 
again called forth. When, therefore, children are 
learning words, they should be made to think of the 
objects which they designate, and to pronounce the 
word in the language which they are learning at the 
time, with its signification in their mother-tongue. It 
is well to explain the words, and to make them intelli¬ 
gible and interesting to them, and not often to let them 
learn, except after they have ascertained the signifi¬ 
cation of the words, in the connexion in which they 
occur; yet they should sometimes be made to learn 
by the sound only, in order that the memoiy, consid¬ 
ered purely as such, may be suitably practised. In the 
same manner you may proceed with events, dates, 
sentences, maxims, and the like, at the proper time. 
Let these things be thought over separately, and pre¬ 
sented in connexion with what is already known; 
let them be separately impressed and repeated, and 
that at different times, as, for example, in the morn¬ 
ing and evening ; and under different circumstances, 


AND INSTRUCTION. 217 

in different states of the mind, in the house or the 
open air, in private or in company. 

Not to continue this subject any farther, we conclude 
by repeating the rule of Quintilian : “ Quotidie adji- 
ciantur singuli versusand the well-known maxim, 

Nulla dies sine linea.” 

Imagination. 

The imagination is in most children the predominant 
faculty, and the importance of carefully watching and 
wisely directing its development is great. With the 
majority of children it may be more necessary to im¬ 
pose checks on its development than to furnish ex¬ 
citements. Yet, as this faculty will live and flourish 
in spite of all restraints, and, for this purpose, seek 
its food somewhere ; and as the mode and degree of 
its development have much to do both with our useful¬ 
ness and happiness, it will be important, in a work 
like this, to devote considerable space to it; and the 
more so, because, though our young people be much 
addicted to a sort of reading which over-stimulates 
and vitiates the imagination, we Americans are ex¬ 
ceedingly deficient in the higher poetry of life, and 
much disposed to neglect as useless those methods 
of training by which the imagination may not only be 
made highly subservient to the sterner operations of 
the mind, but become a source of pure and vivid en¬ 
joyment. Our observations will again be taken chief¬ 
ly from Schwarz. 

Whatsoever is conveyed through the senses to the 
mind, and becomes its property, should be completely 
absorbed by the mind; i. e., it ought to increase the 
freedom, the vigour, and the compass of the mind’s 
activity. This activity is creative; excited by im¬ 
pressions from without, it develops them intellectu¬ 
ally, and from what has been given it produces new 
images. This inward, creative power is often desig¬ 
nated by the word fancy, which is, however, often 
misunderstood. Without this faculty, the mind is 
destitute of wings on which it may mount upward. 
Although, in the cultivation of the senses, the reason, 


218 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

and the memory, that of the imagination is in a great 
measure involved, yet, in order that everything may 
be done to cultivate it fully and properly, it should 
receive special attention and exercise. Three points 
are here to be observed: 1. In the use of the senses, 
the reason, and memory, it is to give vitality to the 
observations. 2. It ought to be exercised independ¬ 
ently. 3. It should pass over into purely intellect¬ 
ual activity, manifested in the production of ideas. 

1. It is not sufficient that the material object mere¬ 
ly deposite a picture in the eye or a sound in the ear; 
the mind is to add to these deposites something which 
it neither sees nor hears, without, however, disturbing 
or falsifying the impression made upon the senses ; a 
something which employs the senses in the immedi¬ 
ate service of the imagination. This takes place, on 
the one hand, in respect of the form of objects, con¬ 
sidered from an aesthetic point of view, and on the 
other in respect of their material, considered as af¬ 
fecting the sense of touch in a variety of ways. 

When the sight of children has become accustomed 
to distinguish forms and colours, their attention should 
be directed to the beauty which form and colour give 
to different objects. But this is not accomplished 
by exclaiming, “ Oh, how beautiful!” or by teaching 
them to prate about beauty ; for in this connexion 
mere words are entirely out of place, as they abstract 
the mind from all true enjoyment. They should be 
permitted to see a great deal that is beautiful^ particu¬ 
larly in the vegetable kingdom, committing to a high¬ 
er influence the time when their feelings will seek 
vent in words. Ugly and distorted objects, grimaces, 
shallow people, and other things, all calculated to 
smother taste in the germe, should be kept far from 
them. Do not inflict on them the analysis of flowers, 
the anatomy of insects, the shackles of system, ere 
they have contracted an affectionate intimacy with 
nature. For the best mode of treatment, we refer to 
the directions given in connexion with the cultivation 
of the sense of sight, where frequent walks amid 
beautiful natural scenery and exercises in drawing are 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


219 


recommended. If, with these, the frequent reading 
of descriptive poetry, and of tales and biographies, 
calculated to excite and nourish the filial affections, is 
combined, happy results will be witnessed, and chil¬ 
dren will frequently break out into expressions truly 
poetical. But great care should be taken lest the 
feelings which prompt to such expressions be per¬ 
verted by your loudly testifying your admiration, or 
even exhibiting to others what you regard as extraor¬ 
dinary talent or sensibility in your children; these 
feelings are sacred and tender, and thrive only in the 
sweet repose of an affectionate family. 

Amid the observation of the senses, the imagination 
thus becomes the guide to that higher world to which 
the mind is to be introduced. In this process, the un¬ 
derstanding also is undeniably active; but there are 
some exercises which have a special and direct refer¬ 
ence to the understanding, inasmuch as the creative 
power here spoken of conducts us from what has al¬ 
ready been perceived and comprehended on to higher 
truth. Mathematical science exhibits this clearly in 
multiplication, in the theory of proportions, of the tri¬ 
angles, &c.; in the operation of finding, by means of 
certain given quantities, an unknown one, and thus 
bringing to light something new. A similar function 
is performed, unperceived by the understanding, in all 
its conclusions, but especially in the deductions of 
logical ratiocination ; and thus the activity of the un¬ 
derstanding depends, in its apprehension of truth, upon 
the active exercise of the imagination. 

The young should not, therefore, be left to occupy 
their minds only with the objects which they see, and 
the thoughts excited by them, but they should be led 
onward to farther reflection upon cause, effect, con¬ 
nexion, &c. The mathematical and natural sciences 
will serve to accustom them to such reflection. Many 
suitable exercises, connected with common life, or 
demanding the examination of natural objects as well 
as works of art, the qualities requisite to their firm¬ 
ness and permanency, the accidents and destructive 
influences to which they are exposed, may be devised 


220 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 


in order to direct aright their own independent inves¬ 
tigations and observations, in the prosecution of which 
it is best to let them rectify their errors themselves, 
as any interference can only raise obstructions ; for 
in this connexion the accumulation of knowledge is 
not aimed at, but the cultivation of the inventive pow ■ 
er of the understanding. 

The whole empire of supersensual truth would, 
without this power of the mind, remain utterly un¬ 
known to us. Without the ability derived from this 
faculty to mount above the gross elements of the ma¬ 
terial world, the soul would remain a stranger to re¬ 
ligion, and therefore never find its real home. Hence, 
to lead the young to a deeper acquaintance with na¬ 
ture, may become, at the same time, a process of initi¬ 
ation into that which is above nature : and this great 
end may be attained on the development of the moral 
constitution, in which alone man can be assimilated 
to the divine nature; the cultivation, therefore, of pi¬ 
ous feelings, be brought into such connexion with the 
study of nature, that the mind may discern in the ma¬ 
terial world the agency of a wisdom which its most 
sacred impulses lead it to adore. But, for this very 
reason, methodical training is necessary, in order that 
absurd and foolish imaginings may not be indulged in. 
Children should therefore learn, by comparing what 
has already been recognised as true, to proceed to the 
supersensual in unbroken and harmonious connexion, 
and hence with logical correctness. By means of 
these exercises,’the creative power of the mind ac¬ 
quires its upward impulse, and yet remains the faith¬ 
ful handmaid of truth. Thus are prejudice and su¬ 
perstition not only avoided; the light that is poured 
into the mind does not convert it into an illuminated 
vacuum, but reveals to it its own depth. 

But this training is complete only when it keeps, 
at the same time, the memory in activity. The stores 
of knowledge already accumulated must be perpetu¬ 
ally brought to recollection, in order to form out of 
them new ones, to rectify errors, and to cause all that 
the mind has made the subject of thought to unfold 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


221 


itself in the mature blossom of One Thought. For 
example, let the children, when examining some ex¬ 
tensive structure, bring distinctly to recollection what 
they have learned respecting horizontal and perpendic¬ 
ular lines, gravitation, the nature of wood, &c. With 
regard to machines, plants, «fec., a similar course, 
adapted to the object, should be pursued. The more 
they have really learned, the farther will they advance 
in the perception of truth, and only in this way does 
knowledge become productive capital: “ whosoever 
hath, to him shall be given.” Provision is thus made 
that the young will not be robbed, by the capricious 
inventions of genius, of their true perceptions, nor 
become fantastical even when taking the largest and 
boldest views of nature, into which errors those are 
the first to fall who, in respect of the subject here 
discussed, are left to take their own course. But the 
proper training which the imagination, when called 
into activity by every exciting cause, and connecting 
its operations with those of the senses, the under¬ 
standing, and the memory, will effect, leads to more 
profound and comprehensive views of truth. 

We need but be observant of children to discover 
how powerful an impulse to the exercise of this cre¬ 
ative faculty exists in the very constitution of our 
minds. If children are permitted unreservedly to 
communicate their own thoughts on various subjects, 
we shall often be astonished at the correct, though 
imperfect views which they will develop, without ex¬ 
traneous aid, on different matters, even of natural 
philosophy. And such observations will teach us how 
absurd is the practice of beginning with giving chil¬ 
dren instruction in everything, respecting its quomodo 
and its cui bono, without allowing them time, or af¬ 
fording them occasion, for prosecuting their own in¬ 
dependent inquiries, as though, by the process of 
teaching, truth were to be driven into their minds. 
And surely, considering the rage for text-books on 
every conceivable subject, and the premature initia¬ 
tion of children in almost every department of sci- 
T 2 


222 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 


euce, which prevail at present in this country, this 
point is deserving of our most serious attention. 

One direction, in which the imagination strongly 
inclines to exercise its powers, has been almost en¬ 
tirely neglected in modern times. We speak of its 
efforts to comprehend the hidden, symbolical meaning 
of things. While the symbolical character of natural 
objects possessed for the ancients an interest and 
charm which excited their liveliest attention, and had 
a great influence on their life and institutions ; while, 
with them, it constituted an essential element of their 
education, the modern mind has, in a great degree, 
been closed against it; and this has had no little in¬ 
fluence in producing the prevalent indifference to re¬ 
ligion and its appropriate solemnities. But this ten¬ 
dency of the imagination is highly susceptible of cul¬ 
tivation, and for this cultivation ample occasion is 
furnished by many of the amusements of childhood. 
Little girls symbolize social life in their dolls, or as¬ 
cribe to a wreath of certain flowers a peculiar mean¬ 
ing : boys make their canes the representatives of a 
variety of things, or seek to express a particular idea 
or sentiment by drawing a monument for a friend. 
Children should now be taught to read correctly the 
symbolical language of nature. Show them the oak 
as an emblem of strength; the slender poplar as rep¬ 
resenting aspirings and elevation to what is exalted; 
the violet, as the emblem of modest and retiring vir¬ 
tue ; the tulip, that of a pleasing and agreeable ex¬ 
terior, &c., as in the Oriental language of flowers. 
But here, also, the independent activity of the imagi¬ 
nation should not be too much forestalled. The best 
exercise consists in the reading of short poems, of 
tales of a suitable character, of fables, and parables. 
German literature is rich in exquisite parables, and 
our poverty in this respect might be relieved by 
translations. Those of Krummacher, of some of 
which an elegant translation was some years ago pub¬ 
lished in this country, deserve special commendation. 

The principles already laid down will enable our 
readers to develop for themselves a suitable method 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


223 


for prosecuting this culture in harmony with the prog¬ 
ress of the mind, and with a view to the more pro¬ 
found comprehension of nature. 

The object to be attained by these exercises is the 
proper culture of the imagination alone. The under¬ 
standing and the moral sense are cultivated by a dif¬ 
ferent mode of instruction, only let harmony of de¬ 
velopment prevail. As additional exercises, we may 
mention the solution of riddles, charades, and the like; 
the invention of such; learning to understand some 
language of symbols; examining and finding out the 
meaning of allegories; the reading and memorizing 
of beautiful poems; the study of the fine arts; ex¬ 
cursions of pleasure ; and, lastly, every proper variety 
of study, if prosecuted with spirit. One of the most 
natural and elegant exercises, which is particularly 
appropriate for the gentler sex, consists in the culti¬ 
vation of flowers. 

The dreams of children are, in a measure, their po¬ 
etry, and are generally more connected and vivid than 
those of adults ; just as if childhood possessed an oc¬ 
cult, inward world, which gradually disappears before 
the glaring light of reality. Who has not felt a lively 
interest when hearing children of six or more years 
artlessly relating their dreams 1 This pleasure should 
not be foregone. By encouraging your children to 
repeat to you their dreams, you obtain a twofold ad¬ 
vantage ; you will become acquainted with their dis¬ 
positions, and thus understand better how they should 
be treated, and you will afford them a most appropri¬ 
ate exercise in giving expression to their poetic im¬ 
aginings. 

In respect to the subject before us, men differ from 
each other in that one has a very lively imagination, but 
deficient in order and stability; in another, the imagi¬ 
nation enjoys a copious flow of images and thoughts, 
but is also usually deficient in arrangement and class¬ 
ification ; again, in another, it is more active in in¬ 
venting and in developing from within, but propor- 
tionably destitute of external resources ; and in the 
fourth, its inventions are happy and its combinations 


224 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

correct, but it makes no forward strides, and remains 
poor. Now, that this intellectual power may acquire 
opulence and boldness through a copious influx of 
thoughts ; that it may be quick in grasping and crea¬ 
ting, and yet well-disciplined in forming beautiful 
combinations; that it may be persevering in execu¬ 
tion, and that its energies may, on every fit occasion, 
vividly flash out—this is the object to be aimed at in 
its cultivation. By the cultivation of this faculty, the 
activity of the mind, in general, is to be strengthened 
and elevated, and flighty and unsteady heads are to be 
accustomed to persevering exertion. It is thus that 
distinguished thinkers are developed; and if nature 
come to the aid of the culture contended for, by gifts 
munificently bestowed and harmoniously arranged, 
we see before us a genius. If, during the develop¬ 
ment of the imagination, a docile and pious spirit be 
cultivated, it will have the most happy influence on 
the whole mental culture of man. It is, therefore, of 
the utmost importance, that, from the earliest period 
of its development to its mature bloom in the later 
years of youth, it be guided and disciplined by a prop¬ 
er mode of education. 

Attention. 

Attention, in the proper sense of the word, cannot 
be ascribed to children before their minds begin to 
become conscious of their independent existence and 
their capacity for exertion; their earliest conscious¬ 
ness has respect, not to their higher personality, but 
only to self. Our readers must, of course, be aware, 
that in our observations on the cultivation of the 
senses, the memory, and the imagination, the power 
of attention has already been largely treated of. The 
discipline, recommended under the just mentioned 
subjects, is in the highest degree calculated to awa¬ 
ken, to exercise, and to cultivate the attention. It 
will, therefore, not be necessary to expatiate much 
on this point here, and we shall merely add a brief 
sketch of the principles to be observed in leading the 
young to the exercise of attention. These may be di- 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


225 


vided into, 1. Negative. Do not require children to 
direct their attention to what must be unintelligible 
to them, such as purely abstract ideas, or such as are 
incomprehensible both from their nature and their 
magnitude ; for example, the nature of • God; but 
while their attention is directed towards subjects 
which their minds are capable of grasping, let all dis¬ 
tracting influences be removed from them. 

2. Positive. Positive means of exciting attention, 
and of promoting its steady and habitual exercise, 
will be found in the charm of novelty, of change, of 
contrast; and in ascending, by an appropriate and 
gradual progress, from lower to higher degrees of 
knowledge. 

The great principle never to be lost sight of is, that 
the pupil should be able to make his own whatever is 
presented to him. Let, then, nothing be presented to 
his attention which he is utterly unprepared to mas¬ 
ter; which his mind is quite unable to digest, and 
which, therefore, cannot be changed “in succum et 
sanguinem.” 

When the child hears the oral communications of 
his teacher, or is made to see something, as it were, 
through the medium of the teacher’s instructions, the 
subject communicated is as yet strange to him, but is 
now to become his own. The subject, therefore, 
awakens sensations new to him ; produces an excited 
state, which is not at first agreeable, but demands a 
determinate effort for the exercise of the attention. 
Now, if the subject is to obtain entrance, and to en¬ 
gage the attention, it must excite an interest in the 
pupil, and enlist his desire of culture; it must trans¬ 
form, instantaneously, that disagreeable sensation 
into the pleasing consciousness of inward power; 
and by the apprehension of that which is given, that 
mental activity must be excited by which the pupil’s 
own mind receives, digests, and assimilates the sub¬ 
ject, so that what once was foreign now becomes 
his own. Here, also, one-sided culture is to be studi¬ 
ously avoided; neither too much nor too little direct 
instruction to be given. In the multiplicity of subjects 


226 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

which children are made to study in our day, there is 
entirely too much of mere verbal instruction; and 
youthful minds are often crushed under the weight of 
the external world, which is crowding in upon them 
through every avenue. How important is it that the 
old maxim be borne in mind: “Non multa, sed 
multum.” 

The Understanding. 

It cannot be denied, that to the full and proper use 
of reason maturity of years is necessary, and that its 
factitiously precocious development, which displays 
itself in a certain knowingness and pertness, belongs 
to the most disgusting perversions of the youthful 
mind. Nevertheless, a great deal can unquestionably 
be done, from early youth, for the appropriate culture 
of the understanding. Our readers will not fail to 
observe, that much of what has already been said, in 
connexion with other subjects, has an important 
bearing, more or less direct, on the development and 
cultivation of the understanding. And thus the im¬ 
portance of harmoniously cultivating all the faculties 
of man, in such a manner as most effectually to attain 
the true end of his being, becomes more and more ob¬ 
vious the farther we advance. 

Among the many points of difference between man 
and the lower animals, the first that particularly 
strikes us is the slow and gradual process by which 
he attains the full and perfect use of his senses. The 
cause of this is to be sought in the gradual develop¬ 
ment of the mind, whose servants the senses are. 
The higher senses, through which the soul receives 
its first impressions from the external world, and 
through which, therefore, the activity of the mind is 
first excited, are the first to come into vigorous and 
extended action, and the inferior senses are much la¬ 
ter in coming to anything like perfection. But a long 
time is necessary in order to bring the senses to per¬ 
form all their functions with that degree of acuteness 
and accuracy, vigour and compass, of which they are 
capable. And it is attention which gradually carries 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


227 


on and perfectly develops the energy of the whole 
sensual system of man, by detaining this energy in 
the dilferent branches of that system, and by suitable 
practice giving it the mastery of each. These ob¬ 
servations will serve to show how important it is that 
the cultivation of the senses, as recommended in this 
work, be carefully attended to. 

We are here more particularly concerned with 
the understanding, as the thinking faculty. Yet here, 
also, we cannot immediately escape from the senses, 
because the thinking of children, in as far as they 
may be said to think, consists in observing by means 
of the senses, especially those of sight and hearing. 
The first instruction given to children should there¬ 
fore treat of subjects which may be illustrated to the 
eye. Speak to children even ten years of age on any 
subject, however interesting, and, unless they have an 
image of it before them, or a clear conception of it, 
they will be listless and inattentive ; but if you illus¬ 
trate your narrative or explanations by visible objects, 
they will hang with breathless attention on your lips 
to catch every word that you utter. Yet are they not, 
therefore, slaves of the sense of sight; for, in the at¬ 
tention which their various modes of observing imply, 
the independent activity of the mind is already dis¬ 
played, inasmuch as the attention passes deliberately, 
not only from one object to another, but from one form 
or colour to another ; and even young children will de¬ 
velop abstract notions from all the various impres¬ 
sions received through the senses. The attention 
thus proceeds to form ideas of things, of their qual¬ 
ities, relations, and distinctive peculiarities; begins 
to accustom the imagination to distinguishing and 
classifying, and thus to conceive of things different 
from the reality ; and acts, therefore, with perfect in¬ 
dependence, both in perceiving and imagining. These 
operations are displayed in the constant search after 
something new, not yet seen or heard of by them, 
in which we see children engaged. This vivid play 
of the attention, passing from perceptions to the 
formation of ideas, and vice versa, increases until 


228 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 


about the fourteenth year, when the attention with¬ 
draws more into the inner world, which the morning- 
star of love begins to illumine, or fixes itself more on 
some particular object in the external world. 

With children of seven years of age the fancy will 
already far outstrip the realities of the material world; 
their narrations of what they have seen will be less 
faithful; they will omit points that failed to interest 
them; they will exaggerate those which excited their 
liveliest interest; they will delight in marvellous 
stories and accounts of superhuman beings; and as 
this is clearly the age of play, their plays and amuse¬ 
ments deserve particular attention. Regarding them 
as an essential means of not only intellectual, but al¬ 
most every other variety of culture, they ought not to 
be left to mere accident, but should be treated as a 
most important part of education. Games which ex¬ 
ercise the patience, the ingenuity, the imagination of 
children, or require some acquaintance with geogra¬ 
phy and history, are to be highly recommended. If 
the age of childhood and early youth is the season for 
play, care should be taken to give meaning and char¬ 
acter to the games of the young. Games which con¬ 
tribute nothing to the development of the body and 
the culture of the mind, or even promote indolence 
and sensuality, ought to be discountenanced as utter¬ 
ly worthless. But the veriest trifle becomes impor¬ 
tant as soon as it contributes to the attainment of 
higher purposes. All games are liable to degenerate, 
and to be perverted to mischievous purposes: all 
games of hazard are evil and only evil, and those who 
indulge young persons in them are guilty of down¬ 
right wickedness. 

During childhood the receptiveness and retentive¬ 
ness of the memory are greater than at any subsequent 
period. The boy of fourteen years will have to make 
greater exertions in committing to memory than the 
boy of seven years. But now the inward activity 
has increased in freedom and strength. The boy sees 
and hears more acutely what he wishes to see and 
hear, and impresses it more distinctly and firmly in 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


229 


the mind. Determined to see and hear correctly, he 
will make greater exertions to commit the subject to 
the memory, but it will be done in such a manner as 
to ensure distinct recollection. But, as the inward ac¬ 
tivity of the mind keeps pace with the progress of 
youth to maturity, in feeling, in developing ideas, in 
forming purposes, whatever is immediately connect¬ 
ed with this inward faculty will be more easily and 
better retained. The youth who, in his boyhood, most 
readily and distinctly remembered the forms of words 
and the scenery of his home, will now be occupied 
with the meaning of words, and with the rights, the 
advantages, the improvement, the adornment of the 
paternal estate, and seek rather to acquire thoughts 
through the medium of language, and to become ac¬ 
quainted with the relations of human affairs. Thus 
the memory is gradually diverted from observations 
to ideas : in earlier years its business is chiefly to re¬ 
ceive impressions through the senses ; in youth it be¬ 
comes the servant of thought in recalling ideas : and 
thus, also, the power of recollection is strengthened; 
for the many accumulated impressions are now more 
and more frequently reproduced, classified under va¬ 
rious forms of thought, or interwoven with divers 
feelings, so that it is frequently the favourite employ¬ 
ment of youth to look back into the paradise of child¬ 
hood. 

The highest activity of the thinking faculty is ex¬ 
hibited in the process of reasoning, and in this re¬ 
spect the understanding is the power or impulse to 
strive after what is greatest and highest in thought. 
Its first manifestations are witnessed in the attention 
with which children observe, by means of the senses 
of sight and hearing. The constantly increasing de¬ 
sire to conceive and create by means of the imagina^ 
tion, is nothing else than the understanding progress¬ 
ing in its development. Children will connect two 
conceptions with each other, and form out of them 
a third; and for this process they soon develop a 
rule, which refers all individual conceptions to that 

U 


230 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

one entire product of connected thought which we 
call truth: this rule is the syllogism. 

The reasoning faculty will early give evidence of 
the decided convictions which it has attained; and 
even children of three years of age will imagine pos¬ 
sible cases, and make provision for that case which 
they regard as the most probable to occur. The sub¬ 
jects which occupy their minds are mostly such as 
employ their physical energies and their senses; but, 
as they advance towards youth, they rather compare 
conceptions (or perceptions) with each other, in order 
to separate the true from the erroneous, and to obtain 
a correct apprehension of everything. This striving 
after unity of thought, this thinking of many things 
in order to develop and apprehend the truth, which is 
the object of all thought, is denominated reflection. 

Another mode in which the activity of the thinking 
faculty is manifested, is contemplation. The mind 
here employs itself in thinking of an object in such a 
manner as to elevate this inward process of thinking 
into an operation of unlimited compass, and resem¬ 
bling vision in its nature and clearness. Thus we 
contemplate nature and the traces of the Deity. This 
operation of the understanding is originated by the 
imagination, which seeks to present the subject under 
a variety of conceptions to the soul, but, not satisfied 
with this alone, enlarges them ad infinitum. 

Reflection and contemplation constitute that ac¬ 
tivity of the reasoning faculty which is manifested in 
the earliest process of thinking, and its product is 
thought. A thought beyond which the thinking 
faculty cannot go in respect of any particular object, 
is termed an ultimate truth. The child has notions, 
the boy gets thoughts, the youth obtains ultimate 
truths. 

The understanding is designated by different terms, 
according to the particular direction in which it is 
pre-eminently active. When it correctly and easily 
combines the general and the particular, it is called 
a sound judgment; if it perform this operation with 
acute discrimination, we call it profundity; and if with 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


231 


happy associations of ideas, we name it sagacity. 
Even in young children possessed of a healthy under¬ 
standing, these mental qualities may be observed. 
They will, for example, note the difterence between 
two animals ; they will play upon words ; they will 
draw rapid conclusions from the expression which 
they observe on the countenance of an acquaintance ; 
or they contrive how they may most elfectually pre¬ 
vail with their parents to grant them some wish; 
but, of course, all this is done unconsciously and 
without design, at least throughout the second period 
of childhood. Not until the season of youth can 
sagacity and penetration be deliberately exercised, and 
the pleasure arising from them aimed at, at least 
if their minds have not been perverted in childhood. 
The boy of ten, or even fewer years, may easily solve 
riddles, or discriminate between two significations of 
the same word, or translate into well-chosen words, 
and with correct application of rules; but the boy of 
fourteen years is not likely to invent riddles, or to 
write original essays, or to form a critical judgment of 
anything, because he does not yet possess the power 
of abstracting his mind from the objects themselves, 
nor of exercising his mind with reference to rules, 
ideas, and connexion of ideas. Before the fifteenth 
year, it will, therefore, be necessary to exercise his 
judgment, penetration, and sagacity in observing; 
practice by means of original productions belongs to 
the subsequent period. 

In attending to the mode of treatment recommended, 
for the cultivation of the senses, the memory, the 
imagination, the attention, and the understanding, the 
complete result will be the proper culture of the mind 
for the healthful and energetic performance of its va¬ 
rious functions. You will thus arouse children from 
the dreamy habits into which they are apt to glide, 
and habituate them to the deliberate control of their 
thoughts. You will accustom them to form clear 
conceptions and correct perceptions, and the conse¬ 
quence of this will be, that they will express them¬ 
selves clearly. You will train them to independent 


232 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 


efforts in thinking and judging; and you will excite 
them to the exercise of penetration and sagacity. 
You will essentially aid them in the attainment of 
clear conceptions and perceptions by giving them 
accurate definitions of objects and observations, and 
by practising them in defining; by letting them closely 
compare and distinguish, which will particularly prac¬ 
tise their penetration and sagacity; by explaining to 
them the origin and use of things, and the mode of 
using them; by directing their attention to the con¬ 
nexions subsisting between things, such as those of 
cause and effect, of means and object, &c., and by prac¬ 
tising them in arranging and classifying their observa¬ 
tions. On the other hand, you are sure to suppress 
the independent activity of the understanding by ex¬ 
posing them to influences which distract the atten¬ 
tion, and by undertaking to accomplish too much at 
once : for example, by giving them too many and too 
extensive lessons ; by proposing to their minds what 
they cannot comprehend; by habituating them to that 
slavish reliance on the authority of others which the 
poet repudiates, when he describes himself as “ nul- 
lius addictus jurare in verba magistriand lastly, by 
despising, or treating as ridiculous, their opinions or 
judgments, which, though objectively wrong, are yet 
subjectively correct; i. e., such as, from their point 
of view, they necessarily must be. 

Penetration and sagacity may be perpetually exer¬ 
cised in the daily intercourse of life, and especially, 
also, by certain amusements, which we have specified, 
and which demand an effort of the understanding. 

The reading of the young is a point of the utmost 
importance in respect of their entire culture. That 
this should be carefully and wisely controlled and reg¬ 
ulated, we need not urge. Although excellent juve¬ 
nile books of every description are now exceedingly 
abundant, furnishing to the young nourishment for the 
mind and heart, this well-founded rule remains unsha¬ 
ken in its authority, that small children should scarcely 
read at all, and boys and girls but little; and that, even 
in youth, reading should not be extensive in quantity. 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


233 


Our young people now read incalculably more than 
they can digest; and such reading, which in our day 
is a downright mania, exerts an inconceivably perni¬ 
cious influence on the mind. When we consider the 
mass of trash and miserable twaddle which, in the 
shape of tales, &c., is daily thrown from the press, 
and see with what voracious appetite children and 
youth devour this noisome stuff, we stand aghast at 
the consequences which loom up out of this muddy 
atmosphere. 

In conclusion, we observe, that the entire intellect¬ 
ual culture thus treated of is not designed to form 
the future professional scholar, but is that develop¬ 
ment of the understanding which is equally necessary 
to all, and ought to characterize every sound mind. 

CHAPTER III. 

ESTHETIC CULTURE. 

Cultivation of the Feelings for the Perception and En- 
" joyment of the Beautiful. 

For the sense of the beautiful, in the widest signi¬ 
fication of the term, i. e., taste, the best foundation is 
laid by observing and promoting cleanliness, order, 
and simplicity, in the arrangements and concerns of 
external life. These requisites should be procured 
for the sense here considered, even before it awakes 
in the child, which does not, indeed, usually happen 
very early. The favourable influence of cleanliness 
and order in the interior and exterior of dwellings, 
and of everything around them, on the development 
of aesthetic feeling, is amply attested by experience. 

As the beautiful itself is necessarily divided into 
two varieties, namely, 1. sensuous^ as an object of ob¬ 
servation,* and 2. intellectual^ as employing the judg- 

* This word, which is often iised in the present work in its popular 
meaning, is here and elsewhere (as the reader will have noticed) employ¬ 
ed in a manner somewhat peculiar, in order to express what the Germans 
call Anschauung. By observation we therefore mean the acquisition of 
perceptions by means of sensations produced through any one of the sen¬ 
ses, or the acquisition of knowledge by the inspection of objects through 
the medium of any of the senses. 


234 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

ment, there will also, in this respect, be a twofold ed¬ 
ucation. 

With respect to each variety, the necessary culture 
should be immediate; i. e., partly with direct refer¬ 
ence to observation, and partly with a direct view to 
feeling; yet with this culture no theory of the beau¬ 
tiful should be connected; for such theory cannot be¬ 
long to popular life, but only to the learned world. 

We here again observe, that much of what has 
been said in relation to the cultivation of the senses 
and the imagination has a direct reference to the aes¬ 
thetic culture here treated of, embracing both varie¬ 
ties of the beautiful, but more particularly the first. 
The following brief observations will therefore be 
sufficient on this subject. 

The first important requisite for the cultivation of 
the taste for beauty in perceptible objects, in its wi¬ 
dest sense, is, that the external dispositions of locality, 
which daily meet the child’s eye, be of a beautiful, 
tasteful, and exalted character. This requisite ap¬ 
plies with peculiar force to the dwelling and its orna¬ 
ments ; to furniture, utensils, toys, and pictures, from 
all which objects the child receives its first sensible 
impressions : but the most important point to be con¬ 
sidered is the character of surrounding nature. It is 
much to be desired, that, in the choice of a locality for 
institutions of education, the beauty of the circumja¬ 
cent natural scenery might meet with far greater 
attention than has generally been the case. The 
grounds which surround academies and colleges ought 
to be laid out and planted according to the dictates of 
refined and elegant taste. Alas ! that in this country 
the destructive propensities of college students are so 
extensively employed in marring the beauty of such 
arrangements by hewing or breaking off young trees, 
and in many other ways. This very fact proves a 
deficiency in the early education of our young people. 
When an American scholar of eminence, during his 
travels in Germany, expressed his surprise that the 
public grounds and gardens were not injured by the 
populace, and his regret that such was but too much 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


235 


the case in his native land, the German, who asked 
him the simple question whether we had no education 
in America, had obviously the correct view of the 
matter. Early education must cure the disgraceful 
habit, which so generally prevails in this country, of 
cutting, and in various ways defacing and injuring, 
whatever is accessible to the public. 

Frequent excursions into beautiful and romantic 
mountain scenery, particularly if accompanied by 
suitable conversation on the part of the parent or 
teacher, calculated to awaken and guide the attention 
of children in observing the beautiful characteristics 
of the landscape, both in mass and in detail, will do 
much towards developing and cultivating their sense 
of the beautiful. This and other exercises, recom¬ 
mended on former pages, will lead children to the un¬ 
affected enjoyment of nature. This enjoyment should 
arise from the actual perception and correct appreci¬ 
ation of what is truly beautiful; and hence every 
mode of culture should here be avoided which can be 
productive of pedantry, or an affectation of pious feel¬ 
ings, in contemplating the beauties of the Almighty 
Creator’s works. 

Parents who desire to cultivate in their children a 
capacity to perceive and enjoy the beautiful, should 
be careful to select their toys with taste. The ma¬ 
jority of these things, as- well as most of the little 
books for children, which are generally disfigured by 
uncouth and gaudy daubs, exert an influence most 
prejudicial on the future development of the child’s 
taste; but, on the other hand, by affording children 
early and frequent opportunities of learning to admire 
beautiful paintings, a most effectual and salutary edu¬ 
cational influence will be secured. 

It is the opinion of some, and among them of Rous¬ 
seau, that a taste for the beauty of forms and of na¬ 
ture is promoted by early teaching children botany, in 
a manner suited to their young capacities. To this 
we can only assent if but little of the details of botan¬ 
ical anatomy (for such is the analysis) be introduced, 
and the attention chiefly directed to the wonderful 


236 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

variety of forms, of colouring, and habits exhibited in 
the vegetable world. 

When the power of observation has acquired acute¬ 
ness and vigour, and the understanding begins to dis¬ 
play a degree of judgment, children should have fre¬ 
quent opportunities of observing (see note, p. 233) 
works of art; of painting and design; productions 
of the plastic art, strictly so called; of music and 
architecture. Without intending to practise profes¬ 
sionally any of these arts, every man should, in his 
youth, cultivate his observation ; in general, his power 
of perception, by suitable practice in several of these 
arts, if not in all. This should be treated, not as a 
branch of school-instruction, but as an amusement; 
at least where the educator has learned to manage 
amusements in a manner suited to the attainment of 
higher ends. 

We are aware that on this point education will 
thus come into conflict with the spirit of fashion, in¬ 
asmuch as the modern arrangements of life exhibit 
very little that is truly beautiful in all these arts, but 
much, oh the other hand, that directly corrupts the 
taste. Much might be done in our seminaries of 
learning for the promotion of a better state of things, 
by judiciously cultivating in our youth a taste for all 
that is beautiful in nature and art. 

The point of transition from the purely sensuous 
beautiful to purely intellectual beauty we And in the 
beautiful human form, with its intellectual expres¬ 
sion, in bearing, motion, and features. 

The observation of beautiful human beings, whose 
exterior announces excellence of character, is direct¬ 
ly the most effectual education for the perception and 
appreciation of intellectual beauty, which can be ap¬ 
prehended only by the judgment. 

W'e need not here attempt to show how desirable 
it is that children be placed in situations where they 
would remain entire strangers to the dregs of human 
society, while enjoying the genial influence of refined 
and virtuous society, both male and female. 

The chastening and refining influence of female 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


237 


society on the young of the other sex is a subject 
on which elegant pens have largely written, and 
which needs no recommendation here ; yet here, also, 
how necessary is caution! how baneful is the influ¬ 
ence of females who have nothing to recommend 
them but personal beauty, and the frivolous gayety, 
the trifling worldliness of mere fashionable life ! 

Not before the age of puberty should young persons 
begin the study of intellectual beauty as presented by 
the poets, in order by it to cultivate themselves for it; 
but more particularly, and first of all, should they cul¬ 
tivate acquaintance with the poets of their own native 
land, in order that at length the absurd prejudice may 
be eradicated, that there is no real beauty except the 
antique or classical, and that learning, or even ped¬ 
antry, is necessary to the apprehension of the truly 
beautiful. 

A gradation should here be observed from the more 
easy to the more difficult poets. 

1. Authors more distinguished for pure versification 
than poetic depth, and who cultivate the taste more 
by the melody than by the meaning of their song 
under this we include also hymns, narratives, ballads, 
and fables, where simplicity is the highest grace. Such 
are the productions of Mrs. Barbauld, Watts, H. F. 
Gould; certain pieces of Wordsworth and of Cowper; 
Gay’s Fables, &c.; Mrs. Hemans, Mrs. Sigourney. 

2. Pastoral Poetry. Shenstone, Pope, Thomson, 
Crabbe, Collins, Dryden’s Eclogues of Virgil, Beattie. 

3. Epic Poetry. Pope’s Homer, Dryden’s Virgil, 
Milton’s Paradise Lost, Spenser’s Faery Queen, Sir 
W. Scott’s Lady of the Lake, &c., Southey’s Thala- 
ba, Don Roderick, &c. 

Tragic and lyric poems are scarcely adapted to the 
culture of youth, as they are not sufficiently under¬ 
stood until maturer years have been attained, though 
they be not injurious, as comedies and satires undoubt¬ 
edly are. 

It is deeply, inexpressibly to be deplored, that poe¬ 
try also has been prostituted to the service of lust and 
licentiousness. How carefully should the sanctuary 


238 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 


of the young heart be guarded against the polluting 
influence of such vile works of art! Yet the fastidi¬ 
ousness of those who confound love with lust will do 
little for aesthetic culture, by forbidding the young all 
but grave, didactic poems. 

The very impossibility of understanding many of 
our best English poets without some classical culture, 
demonstrates the necessity of an acquaintance with 
the classics; but this necessity presents itself from 
a higher point of view when we consider the poverty 
of modern life in everything poetical and beautiful: 
these elements are crushed amid the crash and clam¬ 
our of business, the rush of railroads, and the clatter 
of money. The beautiful aspects of classic Greece 
should therefore afford our youth an ideal back¬ 
ground upon which after times may throw their dark¬ 
er colours of reality. 

Children merely observe, they do not reflect. Hence 
an additional reason for making them acquainted with 
the Greek classics arises from the objectiveness of 
the Greeks, so observable for children; and this will 
serve as a comiterpoise to the highly reflective sub¬ 
jectiveness of modern times. The study of the 
Greek classics should not, therefore, be regarded as 
belonging exclusively to the culture of the profes¬ 
sional scholar, but treated, as it is to a considerable 
degree in England, and in some measure also in this 
country, as constituting an important element in the 
general culture of man. It serves as a lever to raise 
men from the common class (common as regards cul¬ 
ture) to the educated or cultivated. 

From these observations it will appear that classical 
culture should be attainable without the study of the 
Greek language. It is the enjoyment of the beautiful, 
as exhibited in the Greek classics, which ought to be 
accessible to all; and for this purpose good transla¬ 
tions should be put into the hands of those who are 
not instructed in the Greek language. 

It is desirable that this classical culture might com¬ 
mence at a very early period. Among the first pic¬ 
ture-books and stories put into the hands of children 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


239 


should be mythological representations. These will 
also have a favourable influence on the imagination, 
as well as the taste for sensuous beauty; and thus, 
through the pleasures of its world of amusements, the 
child will domesticate itself in the mythological and 
historical world of the Greeks. The writer recollects, 
with pleasure, that in his early days such things were 
furnished for children; and to them he feels himself, 
in a great degree, indebted for such familiarity as he 
has with the mythology and history of the Greeks. 
Has it contributed to the improvement of the age that 
these classical toybooks have been superseded by 
Merry Jack, et hoc genus omne, with all its daubs and 
unmeaning rhymes 1 

Next, then, let translations of the Odyssee and Iliad 
be read to children, so that they may, at the same time, 
feel the pleasure arising from the charm of rhythmical 
numbers. Unfortunately, this charm, as it belongs to 
those glorious Greek epics, is entirely lost in the 
English translations of Pope, while in the German 
translations of Voss the easy and graceful flow of 
the hexameter appears as perfectly as in the Greek. 
But, as the English language (some authorities to the 
contrary notwithstanding) is incapable of hexamet- 
rical verse to any considerable extent, we must be 
content with what we have. No reflections on Pope’s 
elegant translation are intended; we speak merely 
with reference to the beautiful metre of the original. 

The children should themselves read geographical 
and historical representations from the Grecian world, 
which ought to be illustrated by suitable engravings 
and maps. 

A book of travels for youth, in the style of Bar- 
thelemy’s “ Journey of the younger Anacharsis to 
Greece,” would be a desideratum. 

In later years this difference arises, that by far the 
smaller number of pupils only have an opportunity to 
study the ancient languages, with which the majority 
of our youth remain unacquainted. It therefore only 
remains to furnish, for the use of the unlearned of 
both sexes, translations, giving not only the sense, but 


240 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

the spirit of the originals. The literature of Germany 
and France has long been rich in such translations. 
Is there no encouragement for American scholars to 
supply the deficiency of English literature in this re¬ 
spect ? 

The following order may be observed in making the 
young acquainted with the classics. Next to Homer 
should follow translations of Ovid expurgated ; next, 
of Virgil; and, lastly, of Horace’s Odes, which must 
also be subjected to an expurgatory process. At the 
same time might be read an English version of 
what Herder has translated of the Anthology; also, 
a selection from the poems of Theocritus. Equally 
to be recommended are translations of prose writers, 
such as Herodotus, Plutarch, Xenophon. We have 
already said that the ancient tragic and comic writers, 
though the former be not actually injurious, are not 
directly suited to the course of education here treat¬ 
ed of. 

The design of this whole aesthetic culture is not to* 
educate future artists or scholars, but to produce that 
culture of the feelings which is equally necessary for 
all men, and should give to the judgments of all the 
refinement of taste. 


CHAPTER IV. 

Practical Education,, designed to develop the Character in 
general for the Public and Practical Affairs of Life. 

1 . Practical Education in general, or Education in Busi¬ 
ness Habits, and in the Proprieties of Life. 

The first point here is to give the young correct 
and salutary views of human life, which occupy mid¬ 
dle ground between rudeness and effeminacy, and, 
being at the same time liberal, will counteract the 
prejudices of contracted minds. It is, no doubt, a 
difficult matter to contend against a corrupt public 
sentiment; and when this is so, the children will be 
so also. It is the business of a wise system of edu¬ 
cation to remedy this evil. 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


241 


The young should be taught to entertain a health¬ 
ful self-respect, which lies midway between false 
humility and foolish pride. No less should a gener¬ 
ous desire, and a dignified pursuit, of distinction be 
inculcated, which again keeps the middle course 
between a stupid indifference to the opinion of others, 
and a vainglorious passion for shining. In these 
respects the habits of the popular mind will present 
no small obstacles to education. 

The virtues of active or business life, by means of 
which property is acquired, are, industry and econo¬ 
my, midway between habits of drudgery and a pas¬ 
sion for dissipation, and between avarice and prodi¬ 
gality. 

The young should be taught to value labour and 
property as means for the supply of wants, and never 
to regard them as the end or object of life. The im¬ 
portance of these considerations to our thrifty and 
money-making community is frequently recognised 
by writers and public speakers who have the good 
of the public at heart; but still the mighty throng 
mshes on in the pursuit of wealth, and the voice of 
the preacher is scarcely heard amid the buzz of the 
eager multitude. It behooves, then, the educators of 
youth to assail this evil at its root. 

In connexion with industry and economy, the young 
should be habituated to a love of order, which compre¬ 
hends regularity and punctuality, and occupies middle 
ground between rude insubordination and a listless 
pliableness, indicating a total absence of an independ¬ 
ent will. 

In these highly important concerns of human cul¬ 
ture, the example of the educator must furnish the 
most suitable and etficient process of education. 
Without this, neither instruction nor admonition will 
be of any avail. The earlier you begin with habitu¬ 
ating the young to these virtues, the more easily and 
completely you will succeed. Bad habits, in these 
respects, are not easily shaken off in later life. 

To the proprieties of life, which comprehend person¬ 
al cleanliness, posture in sitting or standing, and to 
X 


242 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 


politeness, the young should be accustomed in early 
childhood; but never should nature be sacrificed to 
the conventional rules of politeness, or, in other 
words, artificial forms or affected manners should 
never usurp the place of that gracefulness of deport¬ 
ment, that studiousness to gratify and anticipate the 
wishes of others, to promote by even the most trifling 
attentions their comfort and enjoyment, which are 
dictated by an amiable disposition, or, more correctly, 
by a thoroughly and well educated heart. In this 
particular, also, example and habit will be most effect¬ 
ual. But, from what has just been said, it is evident 
that examples should be chosen with care. The no¬ 
tion that hy intercourse with society the young should 
be educated/or society, is an absurd prejudice. It is 
the business of a good education to raise the young 
above the follies and caprices of fashionable life, and 
to give them strength and independence of character, 
to adopt such manners as are dictated by a sound 
judgment and an elegant taste, however those, who 
are slaves to conventional rules, may sneer. 

The design of this general culture for life is insen¬ 
sibly to habituate the young to those virtues which 
constitute the basis, not only of the culture necessa¬ 
ry to any particular profession, but of every higher de¬ 
velopment of character. 

As the subject here discussed is, in general, well 
understood, we have considered ourselves justified in 
treating it quite briefly; the more so, as it is one on 
which much valuable matter may be found in the wai¬ 
tings of Dr. Franklin, Blair, and others who have la¬ 
boured for the general improvement of men. 

2. Practical Education for some particular Calling. 

Not only is it with most men a matter of necessity, 
but, with regard to all, it belongs to the beauty of life, 
that they devote themselves to some particular call¬ 
ing ; for this alone can give to life form and stability 
of character, without which it can present nothing to 
the view but shapeless confusion. The life-ideal of 
the rich, which consists in restless but passive change, 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


243 


in alternation between country and city life, and in 
travels undertaken solely with a view to pleasure, or 
to run away from the ennui of home, is as contempt¬ 
ible as it is false. The most wealthy ought, without 
any regard to gain, to seek the most important offi¬ 
ces in the state. 

Education for some particular calling, which con¬ 
sists in the cultivation of a capacity for business (pro¬ 
fessional or mechanical) and usefulness, is thus an 
essential element in the culture of the understanding 
for the development of intellectual grace or beauty. 
A capacity for business is not the highest object at 
which education should aim, but it is that most im¬ 
portant element, without which all that is higher can 
have no fixed centre, around which it may perform 
its steady and beautiful revolutions. 

If the cultivation of useful qualities has, in modern 
times, been neglected in other countries, either from 
effeminacy or through the influence of false theories, 
this reproach does not affect the inhabitants of our 
free states, where, on the other hand, the practical 
predominates, to the exclusion, in a great measure, of 
the beautiful and ideal. 

Every human being ought to be free to choose his 
own calling, in accordance with his talents, which 
are wont to manifest themselves at a certain age by 
favourite inclinations and tastes. Few are so happy 
as to enjoy this privilege; in the exercise of which, 
however, the young should be guided by the counsels 
of experience and mature wisdom. 

Education should therefore do all in its power to 
effect this object, as far as it may be attained: its 
business is to inquire, with the utmost care and im¬ 
partiality, into the talents of the young, and, accord¬ 
ing to the result, to fix upon their future calling. A 
child ought never to be compelled to embrace an oc¬ 
cupation against which all its inclinations revolt. 
Such coercion can only have a pernicious effect on 
the whole course of life, by diverting powers, which 
might be most successfully exercised in some other 
sphere, into channels where they are sparingly ex- 


244 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

pended in unprofitable exertion, and by destroying 
the individual’s contentment and happiness. Nothing 
can be more foolish than to compel young persons to 
study Avith a view to some learned profession, and 
nowhere is this folly more mischievous, than when it 
introduces an unwilling drone into the Gospel minis¬ 
try. 

The callings of human life are divided into two 
classes, which may be contrasted as the higher and 
lower; the ideal and practical; the elevated and com¬ 
mon ; or the intellectual and sensuous. 

The former constitute the learned or literary world ; 
the latter, the world of the people, or of common life. 
They are opposites ; yet not hostile, but friendly op¬ 
posites ; certainly the most amicable relations ought 
to exist between them, for they really stand related to 
each other as the flower to the stem. The learned 
world has in the public its root and stem : hence only 
when popular life, the life of the community at large, 
is healthful, can health and vigour pervade the learned 
world ; but it is the duty of the latter steadily to ad¬ 
vance the improvement and culture of the former in 
all things essential to the well-being of the individual 
and the state. 

'i'he scholar is, by virtue of the special calling to 
which he is bound to devote himself, a member of the 
popular world; for only in connexion with this can 
the ultimate objects of his calling have real signifi¬ 
cance and importance. But this relation cannot be 
inverted. The common man is not to intrude himself 
into the learned world, for he does not belong there— 
he is unfit for it; and, however desirable the general 
diffusion of useful knowledge undoubtedly is, there is 
in our modern culture too much of that perverse ten¬ 
dency which amalgamates the two opposite callings, 
degrading learning into a trade, and making a scholar 
of the mechanic. 

Popular callings are such as are rendered necessary 
by the wants of our nature, but which are valuable 
only as means for the attainment of higher purposes. 

The learned callings, on the other hand, are those 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


245 


■which are truly free (liberal, tXevdepa), and have di¬ 
rectly in view the genuine, tlie highest purposes of 
man’s existence — truth, virtue, and beauty. The 
Greeks divided society into freemen and slaves. 
This distinction cannot coexist with the doctrines 
of the New Testament, which represent all men as 
brethren; and, according to these doctrines of Chris¬ 
tianity, the scholar, though in intellectual culture he 
rank far above the community at large, ought to be 
the faithful servant of society, and, as such, labour 
earnestly for its good. 

Preparation for any future calling is effected by 
suitable instruction and training. The science which 
presents a system for the instruction of youth is called 
Didactics, and is necessarily divided into two parts. 

A. Popular Instruction, or Education for the Callings of 
Common Life. 

What the popular callings chiefly require is skill in 
reading, writing, and arithmetic. It is too late in the 
day to urge the importance of these acquisitions, more 
especially in our land of common schools ; yet recent 
statistics have shown the shameful extent to which 
even these primary branches of knowledge are neg¬ 
lected in different sections of our country. 

In this earliest instruction of youth, the wants of 
the people and of the professional scholar coincide. 

The question, whether the Bible be a suitable read¬ 
ing-book for schools, has been often discussed and va¬ 
riously answered. We certainly think that there are 
serious objections to this use of the Bible. It seems 
inconsistent with the reverence due to this Divine 
Book, while, at the same time, much that it contains 
should not be read by children; yet the imperative ne¬ 
cessity of extending the knowledge of it, and the fre¬ 
quent difficulty of accomplishing this in any other 
way, seem to require its introduction into schools; 
and, in order that it may not be reduced to the level 
of common schoolbooks, we would venture to recom¬ 
mend that the teacher himself devote about an hour 
each day to this exercise, by reading aloud to his 


246 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 


whole school judicious selections from the Old Testa¬ 
ment, embracing especially the historical and devo¬ 
tional portions, and the New Testament entire ; and, 
in order that sectarian jealousy may suffer no alarm, 
let him do this “ without note or comment,” except¬ 
ing, perhaps, the explanation of such words as the 
children cannot be expected to understand, and such 
elucidation of ancient manners and customs, as may 
be necessary to a correct understanding of what is 
read. 

No human calling ought to be of such a nature, 
that the occupation or trade which constitutes it must 
needs injure and degrade, physically, intellectually, 
and morally, him that practises it; hence popular in¬ 
struction ought to impart such knowledge, also, as 
will not only protect against immersion in sensuality, 
but make those whose employments are sensuous, 
who live in the material world, susceptible to the 
higher interests of humanity, to beauty and virtue. 

On the second step, also, of the instruction of 
youth, the wants of the people, and of those who are 
looking forward to a learned education, coincide ; and, 
as regards the latter class, this second period furnish¬ 
es the best opportunity of showing whether they pos¬ 
sess the requisite talents for the course which they 
have in view. 

The subjects belonging to this second period of in¬ 
struction are geography for children, with which nat¬ 
ural history adapted to the capacities of children may 
be profitably combined ; history, Latin, and composi¬ 
tion, all conducted in a manner suitable for children. 
In general, instruction in language, judiciously adapt¬ 
ed to the capacities of the pupils, belongs to this sec¬ 
ond stage of scholastic study. 

In the geographical course, the natural productions 
of different countries will furnish opportunity for the 
introduction of a judiciously adapted course of instruc¬ 
tion in natural history. But scientific inquiry and 
systematic arrangement are, of course, as yet out of 
the question. It is indispensably necessary to exhib¬ 
it to the observation of children the different natural 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


247 


productions treated of, as well as animals peculiar to 
other climates, either real or in plates. If possible, 
good coloured plates should be obtained for this pur¬ 
pose. 

In every course of historical instruction for chil¬ 
dren, everything will depend on the selections which 
the instructer makes, and the mode adopted by him 
of presenting that which he wishes to communicate. 
In both respects, he must, of course, be guided by the 
capacity and the destination of his pupils. 

Children should not learn history from books, but 
from the viva voce narrative of the teacher. In order 
to suitable selection, the teacher should therefore pos¬ 
sess a copious fund of historical knowledge; and, in 
order to his presenting what he has selected in 
a suitable and interesting manner, a peculiar talent 
for narrative is requisite. The younger the child, the 
more should he be instructed by narrative suited to 
his age and capacity, and not in the style of books, 
least of all by reading to him. At a later period, de¬ 
tailed accounts of particularly important transactions 
may be read to the pupils ; but the general plan should 
continue to be that of viva voce narrative, with which 
suitable conversation, suggested by the subject, may 
often be very profitably combined. For the first 
course, the best plan will be not to teach universal 
history, but prominent sections separately, as, 

1. Biblical: 2. Grecian: 3. Roman history. 

Instead of teaching the young American what is 
called Middle History, or even modern history in gen¬ 
eral, it will be best to instruct him in that of his na¬ 
tive land, with which all that is essential in the history 
of other nations will either naturally connect itself, 
or may be easily brought into connexion. 

In every historical course, it is imperatively neces¬ 
sary to present what has been selected in a manner as 
much as possible adapted to the keenness of youthful 
observation; i. e., to bring out the individual points 
definitely and vividly: in the subsequent repetition or 
recitation by the pupil, only the leading facts and the 
most important dates should be called for ; but, in re- 


248 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

spect of these, the greatest accuracy should be insist¬ 
ed on. 

A survey of universal histoiy, or even a compre¬ 
hensive view of particular periods, is less to be ex¬ 
pected of children than a thorough acquaintance with 
separate details. The former is more easily acquired 
at a later period, than the latter, if neglected in child¬ 
hood, can ever be made up. 

Particular instruction in language is a consideration 
of a higher character, and therefore a matter of less 
general or imperative importance. If the above-na¬ 
med subjects of instruction ought to be taught in our 
common schools, the higher schools, designed for 
those whose employments and social position call for 
a more elevated and liberal education, should be prom¬ 
inently characterized by the addition of that study 
which is here treated of, namely, the study of lan¬ 
guage. And here the acquisition of some knowledge 
of the Latin grammar and vocabulary is particularly 
desirable, for two reasons : 1. Because the Latin is 
inseparably interwoven with numberless terminolo¬ 
gies of common life, of every science, and even of 
our own grammar. 2. Because the study of a foreign 
language requires closer attention, and leads to a more 
intimate and thorough knowledge of the entire struct¬ 
ure of language. 

It is desirable that those who expect to take the 
course usual at high-schools and academies should be¬ 
come acquainted with the Latin language previous to 
studying grammatically their native tongue, or other 
modern languages, which may be useful to them in af¬ 
ter life. Great care should be taken not to burden 
the pupil with too much at once. 

With this early instruction in language should be 
connected exercises in the expression of ideas; i. e., 
in style. These may be either oral or written. As 
regards the former, all affected declamatory utterance 
should be guarded against; but great attention ought 
to be bestowed on correct and natural declamation. 

The design of this popular instruction is not to 
make of the people, in general, unripe and foolish 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


249 


scholars {axolaariKoi)^ and thus to advance them to an 
unsatisfactory grade of learning, but to communicate 
to them, besides those acquisitions which are neces¬ 
sary to the ordinary pursuits of life, those nobler and 
more purely belles-lettristic attainments which devel¬ 
op and elevate their perception of beauty and moral 
excellence, to which life itself must cultivate them af¬ 
ter their school education is completed. 

B. The College, or Instruction preparatory to the Learn¬ 
ed Professions. 

Our collegiate institutions are chiefly designed for 
those young men who intend to devote themselves to 
one or the other of the learned professions. They 
may indeed be, and no doubt are, frequented by those 
who have no such intention, yet this is the great and 
principal object, in view of which they must be regu¬ 
lated and conducted. Their great design is this ; the 
pupil is to be made sufiiciently acquainted with anti¬ 
quity, that, in his future learned profession, he may be 
able to learn whatever is known in that profession, so 
that in its cultivated class, whose office it is to exert 
a cultivating influence, the commonwealth may pos¬ 
sess men who have possessed themselves of these 
treasures of humanity, of human knowledge, which 
have hitherto been accumulated. It is necessary to 
adopt this exalted aim, even though it still remain an 
ideal; and, if this be the goal to which our colleges 
are to conduct the young, their chief concern is the 
ancient classic languages, and, besides these, history; 
yet, as a matter of course, the other usual studies 
can be the less dispensed with, because every one, 
who desires to enter and occupy the higher rank of 
the cultivating class, must indispensably possess what- 
. ever belongs to general culture, and is expected from 
every other class. On the importance of the ancient 
classic languages to the attainment of this purpose 
we shall treat farther below. They are indeed indis¬ 
pensable. Seek a substitute for them in whatever 
quarter you please, and you will find nothing that will, 
in like manner or degree, give to the cultivating class 


250 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

that culture which is illustriously distinguished from 
that which every individual in common life may ob¬ 
tain, and which, therefore, alone elevates him to the 
rank here contemplated. 

From this also follows, that the pupil is bound to 
bestow a much greater amount of time and exertion 
on his college studies ; not more, indeed, than his 
strength will bear; but let him who is destitute of 
that energy which this higher intellectual rank calls 
for, and which must, of necessity, be capable of no 
ordinary efforts—let him, in the name of conscience, 
not obtrude himself into the halls of colleges. 

The daily hours of study to be observed by the pu¬ 
pil must, of course, be gradually increased in num¬ 
ber. From the age of eight or nine to the age of 
eighteen years, the study-hours in general, including 
hours of recitation, should be gradually increased 
from eight to nine, to ten, to eleven, to twelve. 

In the beginning his labours are performed in 
school-hours ; subsequently he is expected to prepare 
for recitation, and, in general, to study in private, at 
an increased ratio, proportionate to his progi'ess and 
advancement. The hours of private study should be 
to those of recitation in the proportion about =6 or 
8 : 4. The entire period of this scholastic culture 
may, on an average, be estimated at ten years, six of 
which will be spent in preparatory schools, and four 
in college. It may, however, be expected, when a suit¬ 
able mode of instruction is pursued, that even slow 
heads, or mediocrity of talent, will sometimes pass, 
in a manner perfectly satisfactory, through the whole 
course of study in eight years ; and as only the high¬ 
er order of minds should aim at this highest eminence 
of culture, the time may sometimes be even still 
shorter. Yet, as every good thing requires time, a 
minimum must here be adopted. 

The most suitable age for entering college is the 
beginning of the sixteenth year, provided that the 
preparatory course of instruction has been passed 
through with complete success, so that now the high¬ 
er may be essentially the philological school, the 


AND INSTRUCTION. 251 

lower schools having first communicated a profound 
and thorough acquaintance with the grammar. 

In a good plan of instruction for colleges, regulari¬ 
ty of progression should be carefully observed. The 
different classes should be so graduated, and sustain 
such a relation to each other, that the best students in 
the one may, with the best students in the next above, 
constitute a continuous succession of strictly progress¬ 
ive advancement. 

Hence it will be necessary to be exceedingly strict 
in admitting students to college. When pupils enter 
unprepared, it is at no time an advantage to them, 
and always an injury to the institution. The course 
of instruction should resemble the clear, unruffled 
current of some gentle stream. Every pupil ought to 
be capable of vigorously co-operating in one common 
work ; each one should bring to it powers sufficient to 
go through with the work ; each one should stimulate 
the other, and contribute to his intellectual growth. 
To the attainment of this object, a plan like the fol¬ 
lowing, for conducting recitations, will be found high¬ 
ly conducive : let one student go through a portion 
of the lesson assigned for recitation, saf in transla¬ 
ting from the Greek or Latin; let another be called 
upon to suggest alterations; a third to rectify these ; 
a fourth may be invited to make observations ; a fifth 
will perhaps contribute a voluntary remark, and thus 
all become, at length, accustomed to take an equal in¬ 
terest and share in the business in hand, and learn, 
sine ira et studio, to co-operate in eliciting, in work¬ 
ing out fully the sense of a passage, to correct each 
other’s mistakes, to communicate ideas: they mutual¬ 
ly stimulate and are stimulated, and with liveliness 
and cheerfulness the work advances : fervet opus. 
From this, however, it follows, that the classes must 
not be crowded. By strictly adhering to an elevated 
standard with regard to qualifications for admission, 
the evils arising from classes being unduly large may 
in a great measure be obviated. 

To the above observations on colleges, which have 


252 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

been substantially derived from Schwarz, w'e add the 
following on the importance and uses of classical 
studies. 

We consider the advantages arising from the study 
of the ancient languages under two aspects. The 
study is important, 1. As a means for the culture of 
the understanding, or of the thinking faculty in the 
widest sense. Memory, imagination, abstraction, 
sagacity, judgment—in short, all the lower and higher 
intellectual powers are most appropriately and hap¬ 
pily exercised and cultivated by a spirited study of 
the ancient classic languages. Even the art of ex¬ 
pression (style) is much more suitably practised in 
this manner than by so-called exercises in com¬ 
position, which the higher classes in college ought to 
be prepared to dispense with. It is this study of the 
classics which will afford the student occasions for 
presenting his own thoughts and those of others in 
the greatest variety of essays; and thus these essays 
will combine with his other studies in the formation 
of a complete whole, and not be a lame accompani¬ 
ment, consisting of disconnected and unsuccessful 
hors d’cEuvr^s. Thus will the study of language be 
the best preliminary training and preparation for the 
learned world, for this is the world of thought. 

2. The second advantage attained by these classical 
studies is found in the subjects which are presented 
in the ancient languages, and with which this study 
is to procure us a familiar acquaintance. The col¬ 
lective mass of these subjects may be termed the 
classical world. The study of the classics, regarded 
from our present point of view, is therefore designed 
to afford us a comprehensive and complete view of 
the world, or the life, of the classic nations of an¬ 
tiquity, for the reason that these nations present to 
us an ideal of beauty. Classical studies thus consti¬ 
tute the best preparation for the highest purposes and 
pursuits of the scholar; for the learned are, first of 
all, to promote the ideal of a truly beautiful public or 
popular life. 

Considered from both these points of view, the 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


25a 


proper study of the classics will require some par¬ 
ticular rules, according to which it ought to be con 
ducted. 


As a means of Mental Culture. 

a. The most natural course would be to begin with 
the Greek, rather than the Latin; but, in most cases, 
custom is averse to this. 

h. With the grammar, application in translating 
should at once be connected % using the elementary 
books of Jacobs; also, written exercises in the lan¬ 
guage studied. The deficiency of suitable books for 
this latter purpose, which has long been felt, is be¬ 
ginning to be supplied; but much still remains to be 
desired. 

c. The higher art of Latin and Greek writing retains 
its value as a beautiful or fine art independent of 
eveiy practical purpose to which it may become sub¬ 
servient. Our youth would acquire a new taste and 
spirit for this art, if once they learned to penetrate 
deeper into the spirit of the Romans and Greeks; for 
it is only by learning to think, in the spirit of the 
Greeks and Romans, that the art is acquired of ex¬ 
pressing one’s thoughts in the genius of these nations ; 
and in this respect the art of writing Latin and Greek 
verses is of great importance. 

These arts can, of course, be cultivated only in the 
higher classes of college; their farther completion 
would belong to such a higher course of study as is 
pursued at German universities. 

d. W'ithout, therefore, endeavouring prematurely to 
instruct the student in the art of writing good and 
elegant Latin, a very rigorous grammatical method 
should be adopted and steadily observed. This must^ 
of course, be adapted to the natural development of 
the pupil’s mind. In every class the student should 
be taught no more than he can distinctly survey and 
perfectly understand, but so much he should be ab¬ 
solutely required to make entirely his own. The in¬ 
troduction of too much of the philosophy of language 
should be avoided, while the powers of the memory 


254 


A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 


should be constantly and heavily taxed, without, how* 
ever, permitting the mode of instruction to become 
inane and lifeless. The method of the ancient hu* 
manists and grammarians deserves to be, to some ex¬ 
tent, revived, particularly as regards their metrical 
and rhyming rules of Latin grammar. 

e. Of the utmost importance is a suitable selection 
of the authors to be read in class, which selection 
must be the result of an extensive and profound ac¬ 
quaintance with classical literature. 

2. As a means of acquiring valuable Knowledge. 

a. The great point here to be aimed at is, that the 
young become suitably and profitably acquainted with 
the whole of classic life. We do not mean that the 
students are to become archaeologists, veteran anti¬ 
quaries, but that the instructers should be perfectly at 
home in antiquarian lore. The value of such knowl¬ 
edge will become manifest, both in the business of se¬ 
lecting authors for the class, and in the improvements 
which its application will produce in the methods of 
teaching ancient history which have hitherto been in 
vogue. 

h. Let such authors only be selected to be read in 
class as will essentially contribute to present a com¬ 
plete picture of the ancient world, and let the list of 
such authors be as full as possible. But they should 
only be read carptim, selecting such parts as are es¬ 
sential to the grand object in view. The student 
ought, of course, to feel sufficient interest in the mat¬ 
ter, and to possess industry enough to read in private 
the parts omitted. Only by adopting and strictly ad¬ 
hering to a method like this, will a full and satisfac¬ 
tory knowledge be obtained of what is essential, in 
the originals, to a complete acquaintance with classic 
life. 

c. Suitable instruction in ancient history and geog¬ 
raphy constitutes the indispensable basis for the study 
of the authors of antiquity. In both a vivid light 
should be thrown upon physical, artistical, statistical, 
and political relations; but, in order to do this sue- 


255 


AND INSTRUCTION. 

cessfully, it will be necessary for the instructer to 
have completely digested and assimilated in his own 
mind the writings of such men as Heeren and Bar- 
thelemy. Maps, and drawings of whatever is not ac¬ 
tually represented in modern life, are indispensable for 
rendering classical affairs observable to the student. 

d. This entire process of introducing the young 
into the beautiful world of the ancients should always 
be a direct one; t. adapted and corresponding to 
the feelings ; it ought never to be mediate, i. <?., pre¬ 
senting theories and dissecting views and ideas al¬ 
ready developed. It should be accomplished by the 
intelligent and spirited reading of the originals them¬ 
selves, accompanied by such explanations, and illus¬ 
trations, and other reading as may be necessary to 
bring out their meaning clearly and fully, and to put 
the student, as far as possible, on the same stand¬ 
point with his author. 

This latter course would in Germany belong to 
the University; with us it will have to be mainly 
left to the private reading of the student, after having 
completed his academic course; and, therefore, the 
way to the perfect comprehension of the ancient 
world should also be opened by immediate aesthetic 
impressions of the plastic arts. A most important 
exercise for the student would consist in observing 
and copying with his pencil antique statues, temples, 
porticoes, and colonnades. Instruction in drawing 
may be almost entirely limited to representations 
from mythological and Biblical history, and from the 
later life of the Romans ahd Greeks. 

e. In general, a thorough and profound acquaintance 
w'ith the ancient world should be insisted on : this will 
be the best preventive of pedantry, and of all affected 
admiration of the beauty of Grecian life and literature. 

Those young persons who design to devote them¬ 
selves to some one of the learned professions ought, 
while at college, to regard themselves as laying a 
foundation, broad and deep, for that learning which it 
will be their subsequent business to accumulate, in 


256 


A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 


connexion with their professional studies and pursuits. 
Indeed, our present collegiate course does little more 
than lay such a foundation. If in this course the 
classics are first in importance, we yet cannot refrain 
from expressing our deep regret at the superficial and 
unsatisfactory manner, in which certain other highly 
important branches of knowledge are usually treat¬ 
ed. We speak of geography and history. It is ev¬ 
ident that the memory ought to obtain indefeasible 
possession of a copious stock of geographical and 
historical knowledge. No one will pretend to deny 
that such knowledge is indispensable to the profes¬ 
sional scholar; yet our colleges make little or no pro¬ 
vision for these important branches of scholastic ed¬ 
ucation. The student is expected to have done with 
them, so far as instruction is concerned, before he en¬ 
ters college ; or, at most, a little is done in history 
during the freshmen-year. 

We will admit that an adequate amount of geo¬ 
graphical knowledge may be acquired during the 
course of instruction which prepares the pupil for col¬ 
lege ; yet, even in geography, a subsequent course of 
a higher and more scientific character would be de¬ 
sirable. But in respect of history, the case is truly 
deplorable. The schoolboy is made to recite, memo- 
riter, some author on the history of the United 
States, some catechism on English history, and Tyt- 
ler’s Universal History. It is a mere task, and, usual¬ 
ly, no palatable one to the pupil; while, in fact, this 
study might and ought to be so treated as to engage 
his keenest interest. When the instructer teaches by 
viva voce narrative, communicates in an interesting 
and spirited manner his own accumulated stores of 
historic lore, schoolboys will wait, as we can bear wit¬ 
ness, with the most impatient eagerness for the hour 
of history to return. Of the portion communicated 
during the hour, the teacher can furnish an abstract, 
to be transcribed and committed by the pupils. But, 
while much may be accomplished by the adoption of 
such a course in academies, history, in its widest 
compass and its highest meanings, ought to consti- 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


257 


tute a prominent branch of college study, and wo 
would venture to suggest that every college should 
have a professor of history : a man of large and lib¬ 
eral mind; one possessing in a high degree the facul¬ 
ty of treating his great subject, mankind, in its varied 
aspects, developments, revolutions, and activities, in 
a lively, spirited, and sensible manner; in a manner 
every way calculated to lead to those important and 
valuable results which an intelligent and profound 
study of history is confessedly alone competent to 
effect; and we would farther suggest that ancient 
history be thus studied in the first two, and modern 
history during the last two years of the collegiate 
course. 

It is farther important that instruction in modern 
languages should be continued and completed in col¬ 
lege. It is, perhaps, difficult to point out the extent 
to which this instruction should here be prosecuted. 
The only suitable mode, however, of conducting it is 
through regular teachers of their respective native 
tongues, who will, by private lessons, and conversa¬ 
tion out of school, effect vastly more than can ever 
be accomplished by instructors to whom the language 
is foreign, and who are therefore under the neces¬ 
sity of treating it according to the established scho¬ 
lastic method. 

The aesthetic exercises in drawing and music, which 
had been practised in childhood more as an amuse¬ 
ment, should now be cultivated with a more direct 
view to the high calling of the scholar, by a more 
thorough and rigorous method. Both these fine arts, 
should be practised by every pupil, at least until the 
teacher himself, and not his own disinclination, has. 
pronounced him destitute of talent for either. A cor¬ 
rect and rigid method of instruction is no less impor¬ 
tant than it is rare. 

For every variety of music, the foundation must be 
laid by instruction on the piano-forte, with which 
singing should be connected as early as possible. 

Vocal music ought also to be extensively cultivated 
m our common schools; and we rejoice, not only that 
Y 2 


258 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 


the experiment has been made in the public schools 
of Boston, but that it has been attended with results 
so highly satisfactory as to furnish every inducement 
and encouragement to other communities to imitate 
so praiseworthy an example. 

Another matter of great importance in college- 
instruction is that preparation for higher scholarship 
which is obtained by means of mathematics and 
logic, i. €., for perception and conception. 

These two branches of education will require very 
different modes of instruction, which will coincide 
only in this, that in respect of both, independent ef¬ 
fort, and not mere memorizing, should be insisted on. 

With respect to instruction in mathematics, w^e 
wish to ask attention to a few remarks, which the 
mode of treating this science among us has suggest¬ 
ed. It will strike every one conversant with our col¬ 
leges, that students generally regard mathematics as 
a difficult study; that they dislike it as dry and unin¬ 
teresting. Now it appears to us that the difficulties 
of this study and its unpopularity arise, in a very 
great degree, from its being commenced too late, and 
being then, from necessity, treated in a manner too 
abstract. The student’s mind, which has already, in 
a great degree, formed its tastes and partialities, is 
expected, without having acquired any interest in this 
study by early and entertaining methods, at once to 
jump in medias res, and while pursuing, at the same 
time, studies far more inviting in themselves, to 
grapple with all the abstruse details of this sober 
science. The difficulties and the consequent unpopu¬ 
larity which so generally attach to this study would, 
we conceive, be very much diminished, by commen¬ 
cing it much earlier than it is at present the practice 
to do. In this science, also, Pestalozzi adopted a 
method which is in harmony with his general sys¬ 
tem, and which was more particularly developed and 
applied with eminent success by some of his dis¬ 
ciples. Through their instrumentality it has been 
extensively introduced in Germany ; and although it 
has met with considerable opposition, it has, in gen- 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


259 


eral, maintained the field; and as the following ob¬ 
servations, which we translate from the work of 
Schwarz, imbody the principles of Pestalozzi’s meth¬ 
od, we make no apology for introducing them here. 

“The abstract consideration of space and time 
furnishes matter of instruction which is of unlimited 
extent, and calculates spaces, times, powers, and 
laws, ill relation not only to our earth, but the uni¬ 
verse ; and the Greek word mathematics indicates 
that in this science the process of learning is pre¬ 
eminently performed. It exercises the thinking 
faculty in its primary functions and efforts; but, 
w'hen properly treated, it exercises also the fancy, by 
giving impressions (imaginando) of pure form, which 
is at the foundation of all sensuous observation, and 
thus it exercises the thinking faculty in its legitimate 
activity. In this respect, then, it may be truly termed 
gymnastics for the mind. This, therefore, is its great 
use in the culture of the mind ; and for this reason it 
constitutes a principal department in the instruction 
of education. But its use in respect of what it really 
and directly gives, adapts it no less for the purposes 
of general culture, and, therefore, some of its branch¬ 
es have, in their application, also become necessary 
for the young. 

“ Instruction in mathematics begins with the exer¬ 
cises for the cultivation of the sense of sight, partic¬ 
ularly in estimating distances, as also in the drawing 
of lines and figures, and then pursues its regular 
course, and cultivates the faculties concerned during 
boyhood; so that, towards the fifteenth year, the pupil 
reaches that point where he may proceed to the sci¬ 
entific method. 

“ In the first stage, then, he will learn to comprehend 
the doctrine of space and of number; in the second 
he will study geometry and arithmetic strictly as sci¬ 
ences, and, not before this period, algebra and mixed 
mathesis. The educator will instruct, 1. in the doc¬ 
trine of figure (or form) and of magnitude ; and, at 
the same time, 2. in the relations of numbers, or in 
calculation. This instruction must be conducted 


260 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 


mathematically, i. e., not merely in the way of ob¬ 
servation, but also to produce comprehension, and a 
real understanding of the doctrine of equality, of sim¬ 
ilarity, of the different relations of angles, figures, 
proportions, &c.; so that the difference between the 
instruction here spoken of and the scientific instruc¬ 
tion, both in geometry and in algebra, exists only in 
the method pursued, while the same things are actu¬ 
ally learned to a certain point. 

“ 1. The Doctrine of Form and of Magnitude. 

“ By form we mean the limits of space, in all its va¬ 
rious phenomena; and, contracted into what is infi¬ 
nitely small, it is conceived of as the mathematical 
point. It can, therefore, be exhibited in two ways, 
either by proceeding, as seems to be the natural 
course, from the former, i. e., from what presents it¬ 
self to the eye in space, or from the latter, the point, 
of which a conception only can be formed by the 
mind. The question here arises. Which course would 
furnish the best method for education 1 The former, 
it may be thought; yet it is only seemingly the best; 
for, in fact, this course would have to proceed from the 
entire field of vision, inasmuch as the individual object 
ill it, or, rather, its outline or surfaces, must first be 
sought out and distinguished by the eye: thus some 
skill in observation is already presupposed, while this 
is, in reality, to be acquired in the manner prescribed. 
Moreover, the field of vision is something so indefinite 
and confused, that there can be, in relation to it, but 
the smallest degree of clearness and simplicity of con¬ 
ception ; and, in addition, it requires a power of ab¬ 
straction very considerably cultivated, in order to 
form an abstract conception of the mathematical in¬ 
stead of the material figure, of its surface and its lim¬ 
its, of the lines and points. This course of instruc¬ 
tion, therefore, presupposes the power of the pupil to 
possess what he is first to acquire by instruction, and 
is, therefore, only objectively, and not subjectively, 
elementary. 

“ But the second course, which is diametrically op- 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


261 


posite to the preceding, leads from the internal to the 
external, from the most simple in conception to the 
most extended in space, according to its three dimen¬ 
sions ; and its starting point is the mathematical point. 
It is true that this is, in the first instance, visibly rep • 
resented, and is therefore, however diminutive it may 
appear on the board, in so far a material point; but 
this it is only symbolically, as the teacher requires 
the pupil to imagine it so small as to occupy no space 
at all. And this can be required of him ; for to the 
child of seven or even more years, this is more easy 
than the process of abstraction, demanded by the oth¬ 
er course. And this is the real beginning of mathe¬ 
matical thinking, which imperatively demands the 
flight of the imagination in order to the conception 
of pure form ; it is the easiest beginning; and by ex¬ 
citing the mind to observe through the medium of 
what is figured to the eye, it leads the mind immedi¬ 
ately onward, in perpetually progressive succession; 
for the teacher will now let his pupil mark two points 
on his slate, and notice the possible directions be¬ 
tween them; then three, pointing out the different 
possible lines between them. The pupil may for 
some time be exercised in finding the possible cases 
of the relative position of several points to each oth¬ 
er, until he has acquired considerable readiness in 
pointing them out; but to exhaust them all would, 
with more points than four, lead to enervating difluse- 
ness. The pupil should now rather be taught to dis¬ 
tinguish between straight and curved lines. The pos¬ 
sible directions and combinations of two straight 
lines, and thus, at the same time, the possible angles, 
are to be sought, then those of three, afterward of 
four lines ; by which process a notion is acquired of 
triangular and quadrangular figures. After a while 
the pupil should proceed to the combinations of sev¬ 
eral straight lines, the teacher having first drawn for 
him a number of curved lines, and dwelt at sufficient 
length on the most regular curved line, the circle. 
Meanwhile the pupil should be induced to exercise 
himself, in private, in combining straight and cuiTed 


262 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

lines, and in inventing various figures, these employ¬ 
ments serving to exercise the creative power of the 
imagination both for mathematics and for aesthetic 
feeling, while the hand, at the same time, becomes 
skilled in drawing. 

“ If the teacher can devote about an hour daily to 
this course of instruction, his pupil will find himself 
in the midst of geometry ere he is aware of it; for 
these progressive exercises will of necessity lead 
the pupil, when engaged in drawing or examining fig¬ 
ures, to measurements and comparisons; to the per¬ 
ception of equality and of similarity ; to the compre¬ 
hension of reasons; to the clear exhibition of demon¬ 
strations ; so that it will only be the constant business 
of the teacher to direct the pupil’s reflection to the 
subjects before him ; and thus the demonstrations are 
devised by the pupil himself, and have a real exist¬ 
ence 'in his own mind: he sees at once the origin of 
figures and their relations, and the reasons for every¬ 
thing. This, then, is a very different affair from that 
contracting and cramping operation which mathemat¬ 
ics is so generally made the instrument of inflicting 
on the mind. Here the mind expands ; conceives of 
magnitudes as they produce themselves or continu¬ 
ously increase, and thus enters the field of their natu¬ 
ral powers and their laws, and therefore proceeds to 
philosophy. 

“ It may therefore be expected that the pupil with 
whom this method has been pursued will, at about 
fourteen years of age, have comprehended what is 
called elementary geometry, besides stereometry and 
trigonometry. The mode of instruction is chiefly in¬ 
ventive {i. e., the pupil is required to invent demon¬ 
strations himself), sometimes catechetical, and suc¬ 
ceeds best with a number of pupils whom the teacher 
can stimulate to competition in inquiry. He should 
himself speak but little, merely exciting investiga¬ 
tion, and requiring its results to be properly express¬ 
ed.” 

2. As regards the relations of numbers, or calcula¬ 
tion, we deem it unnecessary to translate the re- 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


263 


marks of our author, partly because, in this instance, 
the difficulties spoken of in connexion with math¬ 
ematics do not exist; but chiefly because, in teaching 
calculation, or the relations of numbers, the method 
here recommended has, in a great measure, been very 
generally and successfully adopted in this country. 

LOGIC. 

Instruction in logic should never be commenced be¬ 
fore the last collegiate year, and even then only what 
is easiest and most general should be dwelt upon. 
There should be two courses of logic distinguished: 
one for the college; the other, which would in Ger¬ 
many belong to the University, ought in this country, 
while our present academic arrangements continue 
unchanged, to constitute a part of the strictly profes¬ 
sional course of study. Only in the latter can the 
science be treated in its completeness. The former 
should aim only to elicit self-observation, to produce 
a correct understanding of the nature of abstraction, 
to incite to its practice, and to teach the first elements 
of the language and terminology of philosophical 
speculation. Accordingly, it will be necessary to 
adopt, not the progressive course of some particular 
compend, but the retrogressive course of some anal¬ 
ysis, which should be followed up in all suitable col¬ 
lateral digressions. A complete survey of this science 
is here not at all to be thought of; for the object in view 
is that the pupil may begin to learn to think. The 
mode of instruction should be conversational; but it 
must be borne in mind that in this science it will be 
impossible to elicit the truth from the pupil by ques¬ 
tions, as it may be done in mathematics; he can only 
be invited to the observation of it. 

Hence arises the unfrequency of logical acuteness, 
because the fondness for it is very rare. In mathe¬ 
matics much may be forced, in logic nothing. 

As respects the didactics for this higher academic 
instruction, the following two general but necessary 
observations will suffice : 

1. Whichever of the three learned professions the 


264 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

Student may intend to embrace, he ought on no ac¬ 
count, for the sake of the studies of liis particular 
calling, to neglect that general learned culture which 
he has commenced in college, and which is rendered 
complete by the suitable and judicious study of the 
natural sciences (natural history, physiology, experi¬ 
mental physics, and mixed mathematics); of philoso¬ 
phy (logic and metaphysics); mathematics (of which 
the collegiate course may communicate sufficient 
knowledge, but, at all events, no scientific survey); 
and history, in its higher aspects. 

2. In general, it is desirable that the mode of instruc¬ 
tion in college should, in no branch of study, be too 
acroamatic ; yet in history it must of necessity be 
more so than in other sciences. 

It is much to be desired that, for the comprehensive 
scientific culture which our colleges ought to supply, 
the ideal of the Greek academy might be restored. 
This, indeed, could not be attained by insipid and stale 
catechization or puerile questioning, but only by free 
conversation, or disputatio in the sense of the ancient 
Romans. With this might be connected, at suitable 
/ points ill the different sciences, general recitations, or 
repetitions of what has been gone over by the class, 
which would both furnish the student a general view 
of what he has learned, and, at the same time, teach 
him the meaning of independent study. 

And only when the student has been led to make 
independent efforts can written communications (es¬ 
says ill composition, or by whatever name they may 
be designated) to his professor have any real value; 
and they are not, therefore, to be treated, either by 
the teacher or the pupil, as college-tasks. 

These ideals of educational methods in academic 
instruction can, of course, only succeed, when the 
professors sustain to the students the relation of elder 
friends. To what extent the spirit which prevails 
among our youth at literary institutions, and which 
often manifests itself in developments little to their 
credit, would be favourable or unfavourable to such 
relations, we shall not here attempt to determine. 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


265 


All farther theory respecting academic instruction 
would be more suitably treated as a part of some par¬ 
ticular science of academic life ; and such a science 
would serve to show that, by means of this higher 
general culture, the scholar is to become superior to 
the rightly cultivated man of common life only in 
point of intelligence, and not in moral worth. 

SECTION II. 

MAN EDUCATED FOR SOCIAL LIFE, OR IN THE SOCIAL 
AFFECTIONS. 

CHAPTER 1. 

Education in the Sentiments of Private Friendship, Love, 
and Benevolence in general. 

The rational life of man in society must, in order to 
present a beautiful aspect, be a life of friendship; a 
life adorned by the practice of all the so-called duties 
of philanthropy, love, and benevolence. As regards 
education in this respect, everything will depend on 
the distinction made between what is essential to our 
character and what is merely ornamental. Private 
friendship, family affection, and public spirit, should 
be the ideals of every human being of high and gener¬ 
ous culture. These ideals are destroyed as soon as 
they are dictated as duties. It is, therefore, the first 
business of the educator to be well satisfied in his own 
mind respecting the following views : 

The nature of friendship consists in that pure affec¬ 
tion for another, which, being an unconstrained, a 
spontaneous satisfaction or delight in its object, can 
never submit to the authority of prescribed rules, 
though it will ever be dependant on the degree of cul¬ 
ture, especially the judgment. This pure affection is 
either love for an ideal, for every moral ideal, or love 
for some individual person. The former constitutes 
the higher or ideal friendship ; the latter, the lower or 
common; both combined constitute the highest ideal 
of friendship. 

Affection which is felt for some particular person 
Z 


266 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 


combines within itself delight in that person, good¬ 
will towards him, and the performance of kindolRces 
for his good. Such affection can therefore be exer¬ 
cised only towards an object that is really amiable; 
but this amiableness is either mental ; i. e., it consists 
in the peculiar characteristics, in the temper and dis¬ 
position of the individual; or'it is sensuous, i. e., the 
amiable deportment of the individual in his intercourse 
with others. 

The opposite of this is hatefulness, or the repul¬ 
sive or odious qualities of individuals, existing, like 
the foregoing, under a twofold aspect. The man who 
cannot hate, cannnot love : he is a superficial, sweet, 
soft, pleasant sort of person. There is much mis¬ 
conception relative to that love of our enemies incul¬ 
cated in the New Testament: the nature of this is 
purely religious, and not ethical. 

Personal affection is, in the first instance, felt only 
by one : it must become mutual, and thus it ripens into 
friendship. Affection, and mutual devotedness to each 
other’s welfare, exhibited in every possible kind office, 
constitute for every relation of life an imperative re¬ 
quisite to the realization of the beauty of benevolence 
and gratitude, which has its true foundation in the 
sentiment of universal philanthropy. For the pro¬ 
duct of the spirit of friendship, expanded, diffused 
over all, and graduated according to the manifold re¬ 
lations of human society, is that sympathetic, purely 
philanthropic fellow-feeling, which produces towards 
every man (for the sake of his humanity, which al¬ 
ways deserves our love) good-will and benevolence, 
which will not fail to meet with gratitude and return 
of affection on the part of truly noble natures capa¬ 
ble of friendship. 

Benevolence that assumes an air of graciousness 
and condescension, however inseparable it may be 
from peculiar civil organizations, is utterly worthless 
and contemptible when actually characteristic of the 
person who practises it. 

As we are here considering friendship and benevo¬ 
lence, not from the stand-point of religion, but as be- 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


267 


longing to the beautiful developments of human life, 
we cannot refrain from inviting the recollection of our 
classical readers to the delightful results produced, in 
respect of these virtues, by the Tzaidapraatg of Pythag¬ 
oras. Damon and Pythias were Pythagoraeans. Ma¬ 
ny other beautiful and affecting instances of the no¬ 
blest and purest friendship, which grew out of this 
school, will occur to the scholar. 

Opposed to these philanthropic virtues are the mis¬ 
anthropic vices of malevolence, jealousy, envy, and 
mischievous or malicious delight in the misfortune or 
misery of others. If they be not in themselves vi¬ 
cious, they always become so as soon as they exert 
an influence on deliberate designs and matured pur¬ 
poses, in which case they are justly designated as 
fiendlike vices. Now, as a disposition or propensity 
to love and friendship, with all their subordinate vir¬ 
tues, has its appropriate abode in the human heart, 
education, in view of their development and cultiva¬ 
tion, will have to proceed chiefly in a negative man¬ 
ner. Let it beware, above all things, of extinguishing 
love in the human breast, which takes place espe¬ 
cially by the expression of contemptuous judgments 
respecting others uttered in the presence of children. 
The ear of childhood should be regarded as a sacred 
depository; and thus, also, it is of great importance, 
in this connexion, to prevent children from becoming 
selfish ; to see that their ego do not acquire an undue 
importance and prominence. 

Education will exert its positive influence in this 
matter by producing in children a respect for life, or 
living beings in general; and, first, a tender regard 
ior animals, and then for inferior persons, however 
poor ; for example, towards beggars; especially, also, 
for the domestics of the house, and for children who 
are poor. The first point is of far greater moment 
than men are wont to regard it: he that is unfeeling 
and cruel towards animals, will never be a kind friend 
of man; and children who are permitted to treat ani¬ 
mals with cruelty, will be pretty sure to ill-treat and 
tyrannize over their fellow-men in after life. 


268 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

In respect of the culture here considered, the most 
important influence will proceed from the example of 
the educator. 

The powerful influence of Christianity in promoting 
real love to mankind, true philanthropy, will be con¬ 
sidered on a subsequent page. 

Particular care should be taken to cultivate the love 
of ideals : it is true that this also exists in every man, 
but it is more easily extinguished by the realities 
which come into conflict with it. Education ought to 
recognise youthful ideals as necessary, and even to 
educate for ideals. With regard to this, no particular 
rules are necessary, if those who educate are them¬ 
selves in possession of noble, exalted ideals ; if none 
such exist in their minds, all rules are useless. But, 
in addition to the example of parents and teachers, 
we may mention history and poetry as highly impor¬ 
tant means in the culture of the young for ideals. 
This subject will be farther considered in the progress 
of the work. 

Educators and pupils often confound ideals and 
productions of the fancy with each other, and there¬ 
fore mistake a fantastical or romantic for an ideal 
temperament. The inseparable characteristics of en¬ 
thusiasm for ideals are considerate seriousness, and 
sobriety of thought. 

It is necessary here to warn against that vital mis¬ 
take, so frequently made by those who have the edu¬ 
cation of children intrusted to them, of valuing natural 
goodness of heart, good-nature, or bonhommie, too 
highly, and of undervaluing insensibility or coldness 
of temperament, which is, indeed, of less frequent oc¬ 
currence than the other. Both are in themselves 
only natural qualities of the disposition or tempera¬ 
ment, which are yet to acquire their real value, in 
and through that rational self-control which is the 
work of culture. The former is apt to be allied to 
preponderant sensuality and an inclination to licen¬ 
tiousness, and generally to weakness of character, 
and under the latter is often concealed the most pro¬ 
found and vigorous love, which embraces all the rela- 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


269 


tions of mankind, and which no vicissitudes nor pas¬ 
sions can prostrate or extinguish. Such opposite nat¬ 
ural temperaments will require very different modes 
of education, in order tliat the true beauty of affection, 
of genuine human love, which lies in the middle be¬ 
tween all extremes, may be attained. It is an evi¬ 
dence of the effeminacy of modern culture, that there 
exists a prejudice against characters called cold, and 
in favour of good-nature. 

The design of this education for friendship is there¬ 
fore, by means of culture, to give to the life of the 
individual, in his relation to others, a beautiful (in 
the narrowest sense) character and aspect; and this 
in a twofold respect: 1. In the closest relation of 
friendship, properly so called: 2. In the wider and 
the widest relations of universal philanthropy. 

CHAPTER II. 

Education aiming at the right Development of the Senti¬ 
ment of Love, in its narrowest Sense, as the Love of 
Family and Kindred. 

A niSTiNCT species of private friendship, not only, 
but its highest manifestation, is conjugal love, the 
love between man and wife, whose friendship-ideal is 
found in the common object of the procreation and ed¬ 
ucation of children. Matrimony being the highest 
beauty of social life for the individual, is the destina¬ 
tion of every human being. As such, and as a virtue, 
it occupies middle ground between the mischiefs of 
coarse sensuality, or fornication, and fanatical spirit¬ 
uality, or monachism. It may be right and praise¬ 
worthy if, for the sake of exalted ideas, which demand 
the utmost self-consecration, this noblest blossom of 
human life is sacrificed and foregone : this resignation 
or renunciation of the most sacred and happy of hu¬ 
man connexions may, if made for the sake of objects 
or purposes truly noble and good, be regarded as sub 
lime ; but it should never be other than voluntary, 
and never be required of any man. 

Z2 


270 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 


The beauty of family-life is perfect only when it 
can be regarded, 1, As an individual manifestation, or 
individuum, in the collective mass of the great family 
of the state; when the private interest of the family 
is not at variance with the public interest of the peo¬ 
ple, i. €., with public spirit; but when, on the other 
hand, it rather promotes the latter by the develop¬ 
ment and cultivation of all truly human virtues, 
which are first to acquire tenderness, beauty, and 
strength in the family circle, i. e., in the friendship 
subsisting between man and wife, parents and chil¬ 
dren, employers and domestics, but are tlien to mani¬ 
fest themselves in the public life of public friendship, 

i. e., of public spirit; or, in other words, in the family 
must be nursed, cultivated, and established those af¬ 
fections, those kind and benevolent sentiments, which 
ought to adorn a nation’s public life, and minister, in 
every proper way, to the common good. In the life 
of the family must be sought the pith and marrow of 
the state. 

To the perfect beauty of wedded life belongs, 2dly, 
the free choice of matrimonial companions, which 
must proceed from pure love, and develop itself into 
firm friendship. For this choice of love, and for sub¬ 
sequent beauty and perpetuity of matrimonial friend¬ 
ship, everything will depend on the following three 
virtues : chastity, faithfulness, and the mental culture 
of both parties, for which it is the business of educa¬ 
tion to provide. 

1. Education in purity of mind, or in true chastity 
of heart, presents, in accordance with nature’s course 
of development, the following three aspects : 

1. Accustom or train the child to modesty; 

2. Carefully protect and rigidly discipline the 
child’s fancy; 

3. Direct the child’s fancy upon what is spirituous 
or ideal; for by this means the sternest contempt of 
mere sensuality, effeminacy, and lust is effected. 
For chastity is not merely to be external, as mani¬ 
fested in outward conduct, but internal, as constitu¬ 
ting a disposition of soul. The latter ought to be, and 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


271 


can be, retained, even after acquaintance with real life 
has put an end to the innocence of childhood, and sub¬ 
stituted eocperience in its place. 

It was the opinion of Aristotle, that the intercourse 
of young persons of both sexes should, at the time 
when the sexual instinct is developing itself, be sub¬ 
jected to the closest supervision; and many modern 
pedagogists have expressed the same view. But un¬ 
chastity very generally owes its origin to the prema¬ 
ture development of the sexual instinct, induced by 
various causes. This may, in a great measure, be 
prevented by proper attention to the physical educa¬ 
tion of the young. But the great point, is to keep at 
immeasurable distance from the young everything 
that can pollute the heart and corrupt the imagina¬ 
tion. Watch over the eyes and ears of your children 
as you would over a sacred deposite, that nothing un¬ 
clean may approach them, or even taint the air in 
which they exist. Here, if anywhere, prevention of 
evil is worth all the cures that human ingenuity can 
invent, and which seldom eifect much, and can never 
restore what is lost. But where the preventive, or 
negative education for chastity, recommended under 
the three aspects specified above, is consistently and 
carefully practised, the desired result can scarcely 
fail to be attained; and with respect to young per¬ 
sons of both sexes, thus educated, it will not be ne¬ 
cessary to watch, with timid solicitude, their social 
intercourse ; yet, of course, the supervision of pa¬ 
rents or other educators should never be withdrawn 
from this intercourse. But young persons, correctly 
educated, and having nothing to conceal, will not seek 
concealment. The pure, the virtuous, never shun the 
light; and the young man who has retained his in¬ 
nocence through boyhood, and whose soul has never 
been polluted by so much as an unchaste word, or by 
early initiation in the knowledge of sexual relations, 
will bring modesty and self-respect with him into that 
period, in which new impulses begin to manifest them¬ 
selves in his organism, and he will have that within 
him which will impel him to shun companionship 


272 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 


with the unclean, and to spurn pollution with indigna¬ 
tion from his presence. 

And if we say that, in relation to this important 
matter, our boys are everywhere exposed to evil in¬ 
fluence, w^e need but refer to the evidences of impu¬ 
rity of heart and corruptedness of imagination so 
copiously exhibited in various ways, wherever boys 
frequent, in order to convince those who have the in¬ 
terests of education at heart, that in this particular a 
great reform is necessary. But how and where will 
you begin to reform, when impurity is everywhere 
rife, without condemning children to monastic seclu¬ 
sion ] Better, indeed, would this be than pollution. 
But, of course, the reform must begin at home : i. e., 
parents must attend to this matter, superintending the 
education of their children themselves, not exposing 
them to promiscuous companionship, but excluding 
from their intercourse those whose character is sus¬ 
picious, or even unknown; giving them more of their 
own company, and using every conceivable precau¬ 
tion to secure them against evil communications. 

If it should be thought that we have dwelt at too 
great length on this subject, we can only reply, that 
having, for many years past, been in various ways 
and at different places employed in the business of 
education, we know full well whereof we testify, and 
speak only from actual knowledge of the necessity of 
the case. 

2. Faithfulness in love has its basis in general ex¬ 
cellence of character; in that nobility of soul which 
shrinks from no sacrifice as too great, when required 
by honour and justice. Nothing can be more indica¬ 
tive of weakness of mind and littleness of soul than 
fickleness in love : nothing more base and despicable 
than trifling with the affections of confiding woman. 
There is reason to fear that the frivolity and lax mo¬ 
rality, which characterize the social condition of some 
European countries, are making progress among us 
also ; and to the influence of education we must look 
for the erection of a barrier in the hearts of the rising 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


273 


generation, and hence in public sentiment, against 
the spread of this and every other moral pestilence. 

3. We add a few general observations on the dif¬ 
ferent mental culture required by the young of dilfer- 
ent sexes ; and we premise that in the education of 
females there exist two grand mistakes, the one 
more practical, the other, as yet, chiefly confined to 
the lucubrations of theorists, which call for the judi¬ 
cious but very decided interference of education. The 
first of these mistakes is founded in the prejudice, 
which has become so general among the rich of this 
country, that it is disgraceful for ladies to have any 
knowledge of domestic economy, not to say practical 
acquaintance with the ordinary affairs of housekeeping, 
and the daily routine of housewifery. In consequence 
of this certainly very extensively prevailing preju¬ 
dice, we see that many rich families, and many that 
are not rich, educate their daughters in a manner cal¬ 
culated to fit them only for the boudoir, for gossip, 
and for parties, for fashionable assemblies, and to un¬ 
fit them for all real usefulness ; for all those domestic 
duties^ whose faithful, and intelligent, and cheerful per¬ 
formance is so essential to substantial domestic hap¬ 
piness—so important in order to secure stability to 
earthly happiness; while the sterling virtues, and 
the ready tact and skill in management which qualify 
for the discharge of those duties, are alone competent 
to supply expedients and resources, when vicissitudes, 
reverses, nay, poverty, come to those who have been 
bred in the lap of atfluence, as, indeed, they often do 
come, when least expected, in a state of society so 
fluctuating as ours. 

The second mistake is that which has of late years 
made no little noise in theory, through the sexual 
public spirit (perhaps, more correctly, esprit-de-corps) 
of Miss Martineau and a number of others, and which 
consists in wresting from woman the crown of mod¬ 
esty, the lovely virtues, and the sweet charm of that 
noiseless, retired, unobtrusive life and activity which 
constitute her appropriate sphere, and thrusting her 
into the busy thoroughfares, the noisy assemblies. 


274 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

nay, the political arena, where men jostle each other, 
and contend for gain or distinction. 

On neither of these mistakes do we deem it neces¬ 
sary here to expatiate, because the first argues a lack 
of common sense, which many exceedingly pertinent 
productions of some of our most gifted and popular 
female writers have hitherto failed to remedy, and 
because we believe the second to be confined chiefly 
to a few monomaniacs, against whose baseless pre¬ 
tensions and preposterous demands we have no doubt 
that the right feeling, and correct taste, and good sense 
of the sex will ever revolt, to the frustration of as¬ 
sumptions that are obviously contrary to nature. 

The due differential relation between the respect¬ 
ive mental culture of boys and girls must be deter¬ 
mined according to the nature of the intellectual ca¬ 
pacity of the different sexes. Man’s mind finds its 
sphere in action, woman’s in feeling: to man, there¬ 
fore, belongs the practical, to woman the meditative 
sphere of life. The man, therefore, is to be educated 
for the busy stage of the world by manifold knowl¬ 
edge and skill, and his highest callings in the scien¬ 
tific and the artistic world have already been point¬ 
ed out. 

Woman’s calling is to the more retired sphere of 
domestic life, for husband and children, and her dis¬ 
tinguishing virtues should be prudent housewifery, 
i. e., order and economy combined; feeling sympa¬ 
thy, tender care, cheerful affection, and vigorous pa¬ 
tience. For these ideals should woman, as such, be 
educated, but without prejudice to all other general hu^ 
man education. It is the latter only which, in respect 
of females also, fixes the different degrees of mental 
culture. In this general education of the female sex, 
as well as in that special culture which has direct ref¬ 
erence to woman’s peculiar sphere, the process, as in 
all popular education, should not be mediate, i. e., 
proceeding from theories and scholastic systems, 
but everything should be adapted immediately to the 
feelings, so that the example of the educators, wheth¬ 
er male or female, will be of the highest importance. 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


275 


Girls should be educated only in the social circle, 
and by their mothers. Yet, for the time being, fe¬ 
male boarding-schools appear to be a necessary evil. 

To this general sketch we subjoin the following 
more extended discussion, which we translate from 
Schwarz: 

“ From the beginning of the eighth year, 

“ From the beginning of the eighth year, the two 
sexes require, in almost every respect, a different ed¬ 
ucation. With respect to boys, it is scarcely neces¬ 
sary to add anything to the general directions which 
have been given on a former page, and from which 
the necessary special rules are easily deduced. Their 
principal concern are the studies of school, alternating 
with bodily exercise. Their amusements are, at an 
early age, of the more active kind : chasing the but¬ 
terfly, and scouring the plain with other boys: at a 
later age they should engage in pedestrian excur¬ 
sions and bold undertakings, and enjoy the cheerful 
company of their equals ; taking care, however, that 
their playmates be of the proper character, and that 
their hearts be cultivated for what is noble and gen¬ 
erous. This vigilant supervision should follow them 
to the later years of youth, and guard them against 
all bad company. Their propensity to imitate other 
young persons, older than themselves, which, among 
other evil practices, so often leads to the early habit 
of smoking, and the like, should be enlisted on the 
side of what is good and praiseworthy, by constantly 
managing their entire education in accordance with 
sound principles. 

“ On the subject of early female education it will be 
necessary to go more into detail. And here we must, 
first of all, deprecate a most unhappy error, which ap¬ 
pears, in our age, more and more to extend its mis¬ 
chievous operation, without receiving the attention 
which its progress calls for. In former times girls 
were too much buried in domestic life, and forgotten; 
whereas now they are too early advanced to a many- 
sided culture; and the attention of the whole family, 


276 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 


and of visiters, is to such a degree directed to the little 
daughter of three or four years of age, that we need 
not wonder if the girl of seven expects to be noticed 
before all others, and at fourteen pretends to the dig¬ 
nity of a lady; and if, in the end, the married woman 
must be allowed to regard herself as the principal 
person in the family, if she is not to pine away as 
though under the influence of a slow poison, and thus 
to poison the whole sphere in which she moves. 

“ It is true that we speak here, primarily, of the so- 
called cultivated class; but the evil appears to be al¬ 
ready extending itself to those who have no preten¬ 
sions to culture. 

“ It should be well considered what female culture 
is, and how high, when it is of the right character, it 
is capable of elevating a being which, without it, 
either sinks from its own weakness, or succumbs un¬ 
der the storms of life. Nothing should girls learn 
earlier than to take delight in manifesting their affec¬ 
tion towards the whole family by artless, noiseless, 
well-regulated activity ; to anticipate their wishes by 
courteousness, reflection, and good sense : in the hap¬ 
piness of those around them they should seek their 
own. This is, in general, the end to be attained. 
Let us consider more particularly the manner in 
which education should contribute to its attainment. 

“ Girls require chiefly the guidance of the maternal 
hand, in order that their tender nature may not be 
rudely handled, their purity not invaded, and the ap¬ 
propriately female direction of their development not 
ijiterfered with. Their understanding and their feel¬ 
ings should be exposed to no rude touch, that, like 
the rosebud, they may develop themselves purely 
from within, and like the chaste mimosa, shrink from 
every the least contact. Maternal gentleness can 
alone administer such treatment. Man is incapable 
of giving up the more rigorous process of forming or 
determining, according to his own purposes; and 
when he does this, as we so frequently witness when 
fathers have to educate their daughters alone, he 
rarely succeeds in finding the right method, and then 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


277 


generally prefers doing nothing at all. That the 
mind of woman has so often fallen into error, or lost 
its purity and truth, is chiefly to be ascribed to the 
preponderance of external influence upon her culture : 
girls are instructed and treated like boys, and the pe¬ 
culiarities of the female character are too much over¬ 
looked, and handled with too little tenderness. Girls 
should therefore always and chiefly enjoy the gui 
dance of the mother; and she should more carefully 
attend to their health and bodily vigour than is usual; 
and physicians should be consulted on this point; so 
that, in the place of feeble w^omen, suffering from 
sundry nervous affections, future mothers of healthy 
offspring may be educated. Mothers should rather 
pride themselves upon blooming than on elegantly 
dressed daughters. 

“ The employments, whether designed for instruc¬ 
tion or for amusement, with which little girls are 
furnished, should all be of the gentler character. 
They will be easily amused by silently observing 
flowers or human beings ; they will, indeed, take de¬ 
light in jumping and running about with others of 
their age, and they should be encouraged to do so, 
yet taking care that they do not acquire habits which 
are more becoming boys; for much that would not 
be unbecoming in boys might acquire for girls the 
unenviable name of hoidens. In their case, there¬ 
fore, greater care will also be necessary in the choice 
of companions and playmates; and, in general, they 
will want fewer than boys, because otherwise they 
are apt to fall into what is called gadding about, 
while their inward beauty and tenderness of feeling 
are injured; and to this cause it may, perhaps, be 
owing that there are so many heartless women and 
coquettes. The little garden out of doors, and the 
little doll-closet within, will supply little girls with 
entertainment, and with exercises suitable to their 
future sphere, for hours. They must, by all means, 
be furnished with a doll and its paraphernalia; but 
not with more than they can well manage and make 
use of, in order that they may learn to take care of 
A A 


278 A FLAN OP YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

their little concerns, and accustom themselves to 
good management. They ought to have a few play¬ 
mates, whom they may see daily, and with whom 
they will contrive little dramatic entertainments of 
various kinds. At the same time, however, they 
should have a fixed season for certain female em¬ 
ployments, such as knitting, for hearing something 
instructive, or for relating something themselves. 
This stated time for actual employment must, indeed, 
at first be short, but it may soon be extended to the 
length of some hours; and in connexion with this, 
little commissions should be frequently given them 
to perform, in order that they may become habitu¬ 
ated, in all respects, to order and punctuality, and to 
noiseless, domestic activity. 

“ Girls are more fitted than boys to mingle frequent¬ 
ly among grown persons ; but they should not be too 
much noticed and praised, and, in general, not be per¬ 
mitted to contract a desire of notice. But their hab¬ 
its of domestic industry should not become such as to 
confine them too much to their room, and thus to 
deny them the enjoyment of nature and exercise in 
the open air. They ought, at a very early age, to be 
introduced to the world of flowers. 

“ Girls of seven years of age should already possess 
a decided fondness for domestic employments, and 
from this period onward they ought themselves to 
learn all the active duties which belong to domestic 
life : they should derive pleasure from active employ¬ 
ment in the different departments of the household, 
the kitchen, the nursery, and in needlework, &c., in 
order that they may become well-informed and skilled 
in all these aff^airs. It will be necessary to continue 
the exercises designed for the cultivation of the sen¬ 
ses. At this period, also, they must become acquaint¬ 
ed with books, since these are inseparably connected 
with modern culture : they should, therefore, be grad¬ 
ually instructed in writing, natural history, geog¬ 
raphy, civil history, &c., and perhaps, even at this 
age, already in the French language; but, in impo* 
sing any such exercises, it will be necessary to pro- 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


279 


ceed with caution, and to observe the utmost modera¬ 
tion ; the more so, because girls are, at all times, too 
prone to confine themselves too closely to pursuits of 
this kind. How many young girls have become dis¬ 
eased in body and in soul by reading! how many have 
lost their health by close application to ornamental 
needlework! They ought, therefore, to be directed, at 
all suitable times, to engage in free bodily exercise, 
and even in some of the more quiet and gentle gym¬ 
nastic exercises ; they should enjoy frequent oppor¬ 
tunities of appropriate amusement in the society of 
others of the same age. It is particularly desirable 
that they should have several little friends, with whom 
they may keep up an interchange of less frequent 
visits, in order that their tenderness and freshness of 
feeling towards beloved persons may on no account 
be blunted, as is so frequently the case in conse¬ 
quence of daily intercourse. In general, too great 
care cannot be taken that that cheerfulness which is 
so lovely in all should not be lost by study, or appli¬ 
cation to any other pursuit. It is delightful to hear 
every part of the house resound with the young maid¬ 
en’s sweet song : delightful is that vivacity which so 
often enlivens home and cheers all its inmates. 

“ Modesty, cleanliness, propriety in all respects, as 
well as all other female virtues, will indeed manifest 
themselves spontaneously in young maidens who 
have not been neglected or spoiled in childhood ; yet 
they must be earnestly cherished and carefully culti¬ 
vated ; and it is precisely at the age commencing with 
the eighth year that this is most necessary, because 
at this age an excited state of mind with reference to 
social relations supervenes, by means of which the 
artlessness of childhood is apt to suffer. Hence, even 
in the playful age, some positive treatment is necessary, 
i. e., treatment by which the inward soundness of 
character is secured by external influences, which 
favour the firm retention of good habits. It is difficult 
here to find the proper medium or middle course, so 
that, on the one hand, that simplicity and artlessness 
{naivete), which are such beautiful features in the char- 


280 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 


acter of young females, be not impaired and dissipa¬ 
ted, and that, on the other hand, nature be not left to 
run wild, at a time when its second impulse is devel¬ 
oping itself. It is only the tender mother, herself 
free from vanity and egotism, who can truly under¬ 
stand and appreciate the delicate organism of her 
child’s mind, and succeed, by her beautiful tact in 
treating the elements of childhood, in awakening its 
slumbering powers. Intercourse with rude compan¬ 
ions, and, still more, every public exhibition of young 
girls—for example, in public musical performances— 
would directly contravene the object aimed at; and 
in this respect even boarding-schools have their dis¬ 
advantages. When it is borne in mind how easily 
the mind’s simplicity and purity are lost by shallow 
gossip, by ungentle, injudicious treatment, and by 
fondness for shining and public display; when the 
many examples of female flippancy, vanity, and co¬ 
quetry, that meet us everywhere, are taken into con¬ 
sideration, it will be obvious to every reflecting mind 
that the treatment, or, rather, absence of proper treat¬ 
ment during the period of which we speak, is in fault. 
Girls, in short, require treatment of such delicacy and 
tenderness, as to cherish in their minds a prominent 
and acute sense of personal sacredness. 

“ But they are not, on that account, to be brought up 
to be fragile, sensitive, or ornamental plants. Girls 
also have their path of life to run, which is often 
enough thorny, and the asperities of whose atmo¬ 
sphere they must be prepared to bear, while in their 
home they let their softening and warming light shine. 
But, in order to this, exalted self-denial is necessary, 
and nothing is so sure to communicate this as a 
Christian education. Their school for life will there¬ 
fore be home, with its joys, and, perhaps, more fre • 
quently, its sorrows ; and this school will be the best 
for developing their tender feelings, and to induct them 
gradually into their own beautiful activities. One of 
the most beautiful of these is the care of smaller chil¬ 
dren, particularly of brothers and sisters, in which 
girls may be the assistants of their mothers. 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


281 


“ The tone of the house, and of the entire mode of 
treatment, should be, both for boys and girls, the same 
even, natural, sober, and friendly family-tone, if edu¬ 
cation is to be successful. Nothing affected, nothing 
stiff and constrained, nothing pedantic ; but through¬ 
out, unconstrained cordiality, cheerfulness, and good- 
humour, combined with due sobriety and firmness in 
all things, which the educator must require : this is 
what the nature of children and of parents demands. 
But, in all respects, parents, educators, and others 
should live before children as in the sacred presence 
of God, and thus accustom them thus to live. This 
may become, at the age here treated of, the fixed 
habit of the whole life ; and what could be more de¬ 
sirable! If the omnipresent God dwelleth in the 
heart of the child, it is already in the path of wisdom. 

^‘‘From the beginning of the fifteenth year. 

“ It will not be necessary here to say anything more 
on the subject of physical education. The proper 
mode of life, with all its good habits, should by this 
time have become second nature, and be identified 
with moral accountability. On the direction of this, 
by means of instruction, we have only the following 
observations to add : 

“ 1. The education of young men is best conducted on 
the principle of leaving them to choose the good for 
themselves, and to avoid the evil. Even in the monk¬ 
ish Middle Ages this principle was recognised, and 
Vincent de Beauvais has some excellent remarks on 
the subject. 

The young man may be expected to make the right 
choice, if he has, up to this period, been trained up, 
and continues to be guided, according to the direc¬ 
tions which we have given. On the one hand, his rea¬ 
son must, by means of his scientific culture, become 
the ruling power within him; while, on the other 
hand, his heart must be elevated by noble and gener¬ 
ous feelings. Happy are the influences of affection¬ 
ate intercourse with his parents, his brothers and sis¬ 
ters ; of tender attention to his younger brothers and 
A A 3 


282 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 


sisters; especially, also, of friendship, and even of 
love, which should be allowed to develop itself and 
bloom in the youthful heart: it is a guardian angel, 
that protects in many temptations. Thus will he en¬ 
ter armed into life, and consecrate himself to God 
and mankind. The guidance which he will still re¬ 
quire should consist not only in the directions of sen¬ 
sible counsel, but also in protection against evil influ¬ 
ences. Youth cannot, as yet, dispense with a certain 
degree of rigour. Thus, for example, he should not 
so much as desire bad company ; and on all occasions 
entertain the firm resolve not to be misled. He may 
yet, in various ways, break his resolutions, and run 
into excesses; and here he will stand in need of a 
Mentor, who will come up powerfully to his aid, and, 
if need be, not spare him. Even the young man of 
eighteen ought not to enjoy absolute liberty, but a de¬ 
gree of rigorous Mentorship should still be exercised 
over him. Thus, in every good institution of learn¬ 
ing, there ought to be inexorable statutes against 
card-playing, and every game of chance, and against 
certain classes of meetings. An all-important point 
is, that young men repose confidence in their coun¬ 
sellors ; and, in connexion with this subject, we re¬ 
fer to what has been said concerning the early culti¬ 
vation of enthusiasm for ideals. 

“We should encourage youth of this age in the de¬ 
velopment of truth; in giving an account, at least to 
themselves, of their actions; in cultivating habits of 
reflection; and we may do tliis, among other means, 
by exciting doubts in their minds, when we observe 
that they are too hasty to assume things as true; 
yet, in so doing, it will be necessary to keep within 
due bounds, and to treat with respectful tenderness 
that youthful heart which pursues and embraces with 
ardour. 

“ The youth’s heart should glow for whatever is 
good, and true, and beautiful. Hence it is the office of 
education to provide that his active or moral principles, 
having developed themselves with his growth, having 
been disciplined by instruction, and practice, and dis- 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


283 


played themselves in the various virtues of early life, 
may be strengthened. The sphere in which he moves, 
example, scholastic instruction, and religious culture, 
all will co-operate in this ; but serious admonition and 
counsel must not be wanting. Science, indeed, leads 
directly to truth, but there must be a steady influence 
to excite a thirst for truth. His taste, as the sense of 
the beautiful, must be protected against whatever 
may corrupt it. 

“ The utmost cleanliness and unaffected neatness in 
dress should be insisted on. While you seek care¬ 
fully to preserve him from foppery and all fashion¬ 
able follies, use every suitable effort to give predomi¬ 
nance within him to a sense of what is becoming, 
beautiful, and dignified. The cultivation of the taste 
must, in the mean time, make gradual progress; eve¬ 
ry attempt to force out premature fruit must be avoid¬ 
ed, otherwise the young man will learn to criticise 
before he learns to admire and to love ; he will become 
a shallow babbler, who will prate about matters of art 
in the phraseology of popular periodicals. No, let 
not this be; let him first learn to feel healthfully and 
naturally; then, as his taste becomes more and more 
developed in the study of nature, and in progressive 
artistic culture, he will, in due time, have a healthy, 
sound judgment, which is scarcely to be expected of 
the youth of eighteen ; for he is still, at this age, in 
too excited a state to possess it. Let, then, no con¬ 
ceit be indulged in him, which would rob him of his 
greatest ornament, his modesty. 

“ And then, when the youth receives into his soul 
the true with the good, and the good with the beautiful, 
his most exalted idea will dawn upon him in its glo¬ 
ry. He will find happy hours in devotion: he will 
desire, with some dear friend, to strive upward to the 
divine : he will resolve to consecrate himself to the 
promotion of human happiness : he will long to see a 
heaven upon earth, and to labour for the evolution of 
better times ; and if, amid these high impulses, he 
should begin to indulge in fantastic schemes, and 
threaten to run into extravagances, he will need, nut 


284 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

only a calmly reflecting friend, but also that ayaOodai- 
uuv within him, which will admonish him modestly to 
attend to the corrective counsels of his older and ma- 
turer teachers. Yet only when the culture of the 
mind and heart, in its whole compass, advances stead¬ 
ily, can that which is highest in humanity, however 
mightily it may struggle within him, be actually de¬ 
veloped in the youth. Our age is, in the highest de¬ 
gree, unfavourable to the education of young men. 
They are too early left to themselves ; an emancipa¬ 
tion utterly at variance with nature. Among the 
more cultivated, everything tends to excite in the 
youth more of pretension than of modesty, more 
egotism than affection, more fantasticalness than 
thirst for truth, more idolatrous devotion to the pre¬ 
vailing spirit of the age than fear of God: and a high- 
souled youth is a phenomenon that men stare and 
wonder at. Among the uncultivated, the state of 
things is even worse. What rudeness and licentious¬ 
ness characterize great numbers of apprentices and 
journeymen in our cities and towns, and extend even 
to the sons of our yeomanry, is but too notorious.” 

What a commentary on the state of education 
among the mass of 'our people do we read in the 
progress of insubordination, in the ferocious exhibi¬ 
tions of a riotous and lawless spirit, which have, for 
some time past, been more and more frequently wit¬ 
nessed in our land ! What does the police—what can 
it effect in our peculiar political organization 1 The 
schools do little enough; and fathers also, even though 
they be sensible and wise, can accomplish scarcely 
anything, since the spirit of the age has so much en¬ 
ervated parental influence, and the current of unre¬ 
strained license is hurrying along so many even of 
the more cultivated and better class. The influence 
of the Church, of religion, is indeed great, so far as 
it reaches; but how vast the multitude of those who 
spurn its authority! When, therefore, we look abroad, 
and contemplate the condition of our youth, we see 
that, precisely at the age which requires the strong¬ 
est inward eflbrts of virtue, they are not only sent out 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


285 


helpless into the world, but exposed to the most 
frightful dangers to the soul: not much better than if 
the newborn child were exposed in a wilderness in¬ 
habited by ravening beasts. If better provision be 
not made, both in city and country, for the education 
and discipline of the young, both in and out of school, 
in domestic and public life, no good is to be expected 
from education among a cultivated people; nay, the 
evils deprecated seem to keep pace, at a fearful rate, 
with culture itself. Of this we have evidence in all 
the information we possess on the subject respecting 
our large cities and towns; and, alas! that we should 
say it, abundant proof is furnished even by our colle¬ 
ges. And we cannot but hope that our state legisla¬ 
tures, as they see these evils increasing with fearful 
rapidity, and evolving the most lamentable results, 
will be induced not only to make more ample pro¬ 
vision for the education of the people, but will inquire 
more closely into its nature, and adopt a system that 
may be calculated to train up the youth of this great 
republic in such views of life and of human duty, as 
may .fit our people for the right and profitable exer¬ 
cise of those political rights and privileges of which 
they so fondly boast. 

In conclusion, we may add, that if our legislatures 
are too indifferent or too impotent to extend, both as 
to time and space, the operation of education, and to 
adapt its character to our wants, as this is the age of 
societies, a society might be formed which should aim 
at reforming the existing system of education, and 
developing and establishing principles indispensable 
to the discipline of a free people, and adopting and in¬ 
troducing a plan and method, by which the evils which 
exist and are increasing among us may be assailed 
and remedied at the root, in the mind and heart of the 
young, and the true, the right, the beautiful, and the 
good become the objects of the people’s love and pur 
suit. 

2. Female Education from the thirteenth year of Life 
At iiD time of life does the sanctuary of the female 


286 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 


heart require more vigilant protection, than at the ag^e 
when the young maiden begins to develop herself to 
womanhood. Not only should the mother, with the 
utmost solicitude, guard her against improper com¬ 
pany, and against evil communications of every de¬ 
scription, but she should herself be more than ever 
her daughter’s companion. Her own heart should 
more intensely glow for whatever is pure, and gener¬ 
ous, and good ; and thus will her maternal conversa¬ 
tion and example exert an influence which cannot fail 
to produce fruits of greatest excellence. At this pe¬ 
riod the young female should engage more extensive¬ 
ly in domestic employments, and make greater exer¬ 
tions both in acquiring accomplishments and in culti¬ 
vating the understanding, being, at the same time, 
gradually introduced into social life, and taught to ac¬ 
custom herself to the harsher and rougher elements 
of human intercourse. Education must provide that 
she meet with nothing corrupting to the soul, nothing 
destructive to faith, and hope, and love. It is at this 
period that conversations on religion and on other 
subjects, not only with the mother, but with the father 
also, will be most desirable and profitable. 

“ Whatever peculiar destinies may await the young 
maiden, something should be learned by means of 
which, even though she remain unmarried, she may 
be able to lead a useful and dignified life. Every tal¬ 
ent that makes itself manifest should be suitably cul¬ 
tivated. In the cultivated class, every young woman 
should, at least to some extent, learn drawing and 
music, for these fine arts are favourable to the devel¬ 
opment of inward truth in thought and feeling, and 
subserve the attainment of other female accomplish¬ 
ments. 

“ But, because such should be their influence, females 
ought never to be called upon to make what may be 
called exhibitions in these arts: it is only among 
friends that girls or young women should sing and 
perform on an instrument; and then not for the sake 
of applause, but to give pleasure. Performances be¬ 
fore large and mixed companies have a tendency dan- 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


287 


gerous to some of the most beautiful traits in the 
character of well-educated woman; and young wom¬ 
en should never engage in them, except they be re¬ 
ally above all vain desire of admiration and praise. 

“ Moderation and dignity in all suitable amusements 
should be strictly insisted upon, and all fashionable 
folly and impropriety in dress carefully guarded 
against. The present aspect of social life would 
stamp with absurdity all declamations against beauty 
and elegance of apparel; but surely every well-edu¬ 
cated woman should not only be above mere worldli- 
iiess in anything, and the follies and frivolities of 
fashionable life, but ought to exhibit the purity and 
nobleness of her character by seeking the beautiful 
and elegant in what is modest and becoming, simple 
and dignified, and by making all her accomplishments 
subservient to the true and the good. 

“ Although boys should be chiefly educated by men, 
and girls by women, the two sexes should unite in 
the education of both boys and girls. ThS boy re¬ 
quires the mild and gentle treatment of the mother, 
in order that his sensibility may not become callous ; 
and, besides, he will always need some intercourse 
with persons of the other sex, both young and adult, 
as it is found in families, because otherwise he will 
contract habits of rudeness, without developing a 
susceptibility for the finer feelings of humanity. 
Without such influence, the youth would become 
coarse and rude in his manners; for, as the youth is 
less disposed than the boy to submit to positive 
treatment, and his educators are, consequently, under 
the necessity of influencing him chiefly by instruc¬ 
tion, there would be reason to apprehend that his 
feelings would be deficient in cordiality and fervour; 
or that he would be less capable of expressing them 
suitably and well; or even that he might enter on 
evil courses, and fall into the excesses of ambition 
or of lust; for it is in intercourse with cultivated, 
noble, and virtuous women, that virtue presents itself 
to the youth in its most amiable light; and while this, 


288 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 


therefore, will most readily make him complaisant 
and modest, nothing is better calculated to overcome 
the first movements of impure desire than such socie¬ 
ty, for it has even been effectual to the refonnation 
of dissolute characters. If, then, the uncorrupted youth 
is so happy as to have access to such society, this 
will not only give his manners a pleasing exterior, 
but will increase the enthusiasm of his soul for 
everything noble and good. In certain situations, in 
which he needs some one to whom he may confi¬ 
dingly open his heart, we would recommend to him 
to seek some judicious maternal friend. 

“ Not exactly in the same, but in a similar manner, 
it is necessary that man should co-operate in the edu¬ 
cation of females, from its earliest stages, in order 
that they may not become too effeminate (if we may 
be indulged in this seeming paradox), but acquire en¬ 
ergy of mind without prejudice to the graces of the 
female character. We may particularly observe that 
girls will, in general, learn better with a male than 
with a female teacher. 

“ In human life, at least in our European culture, the 
two sexes are, as they ought to be, associated : hence 
young women must be accustomed to the society of 
men; and, if so, they must not be excluded from it in 
their earlier years. They will then, if their education 
have been of the proper character, be the less liable 
to be deceived by the exterior of shallow or un¬ 
worthy young men, and they will be better prepared 
to appreciate, in all its forms, whatever is noble in 
mankind; and this, surely, is necessary to completed 
culture. It is important to consider that the young 
female’s mind will more beautifully develop itself, 
and attain higher elevation, if the communications of 
a gifted man instruct her on those subjects, of which 
she has formed only remote or obscure ideas. How 
much may a father thus do for his daughter! 

“We see, then, in the arrangement of nature, by 
which the child is given in charge to both parents, 
the directions of wisdom, indicating, indeed, that men 
are to be chiefly engaged in educating the ypung of 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


2Q9 


their sex, and women those of their own, yet show¬ 
ing no less clearly that both sexes are to unite in 
the complete education of each. The energy of the 
male sex would launch out into wild excesses, if the 
influence of the gentler sex did not calm and restrain; 
the powers of the latter would too much live and lose 
themselves in the inward world, if they were not 
roused and elevated by the influence of man’s energy.” 

CHAPTER III. 

Education for the Community or for Public Life, whether 
of the Church or the State. Patriotism. 

The highest degree of friendship is the universal 
national bond of public spirit in public life; but this 
presents itself under two forms, according to two 
ideas, for which public friendship may be formed—re¬ 
ligion and love of country. In the former case, friends 
unite for the realization of that cosmopolitan ideal 
which is set forth by Christianity alone ; in the latter, 
they unite for the attainment of that political or civil 
ideal, which gives to the patriotism of each particular 
nation its own peculiar form. If, then, the life of the 
young is not to be destitute of the highest mental 
beauty, they must (irrespective here of all imperative 
duty) be educated also for Christianity and for patri¬ 
otism. As both Christianity and individual nations 
are historical developments in mankind, the develop¬ 
ment of both will have to proceed from history, and 
derive its life from it; each of the two, of course, ac¬ 
cording to distinct and peculiar relations. 

Christianity must live among the people ; i. e., it 
must, 

1. Be known from the Bible and from history; and, 

2. Practised in the manners and customs of life, 
and in the forms of society. To provide for this 
Christian life, is the business of the Church or the 
clergy. For the first requisite above specified, Chris¬ 
tian teachers and pastors ; for the second, Christian 
institutions of life, are necessary. By means of both 
these instrumentalities, a society is constituted within 


S90 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

the state, which ought to be entered voluntarily and 
from conviction. The institutions of life will have in 
view partly the regulation of affairs, partly the sol¬ 
emnization of religious rites and exercises, in meet¬ 
ings open to all. To the former institutions belongs 
a constitution or Church discipline ; the latter shows 
the subserviency of art to Christianity, in beautiful 
public representations for the eye and ear, and in the 
worthy celebration of Christian festivals. 

We learn from history that the Catholic Church 
has not only aimed at exhibiting this subserviency of 
art to the purposes of Christianity, but that she claims 
the exclusive credit of success in this attempt; yet 
her great defects, and especially her heathenish su¬ 
perstition, are obvious to every unbiased observer. 

The Protestant Church, in returning to the simplici¬ 
ty of the apostolic times, and to the paramount au¬ 
thority of the Inspired Volume, has brought back reli¬ 
gion from the region of fancy, and the empire of su¬ 
perstition, into the daily life of man, and restored to 
her that influence which she is designed to exert over 
his mind, and heart, and conduct, in order that in ail 
the pursuits and relations of life he may be a servant 
of the living God. Christianity in the Protestant 
Church, particularly in this country, is, as it ought to 
be, eminently practical; and the great object to be 
had in view, in connexion with the regulations and in¬ 
stitutions mentioned above, is, therefore, their influ¬ 
ence on practical life—on man’s habits of thought, 
feeling, and action, in every position he may be call¬ 
ed to occupy in life. We regard the institutions of 
Protestantism as in the main scriptural, and hence 
decidedly calculated to effect the desired object; yet 
vve would venture to suggest whether the Protestant 
Church has not, in part, been one-sided in its course, 
in rejecting those more solemn festivals of the early 
Church which have been retained by some Protestant 
denominations. We regard the stated commemora¬ 
tion of the leading historical facts in the redemption 
-of mankind and the establishment of the Christian 
Church, as founded in reason and sound views of hu- 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


291 


man nature. We feel persuaded that, when these fes¬ 
tivals are celebrated in the right spirit, unaccompani¬ 
ed by superstitious notions and empty observances, 
their influence will and ever must be highly salutary. 
And believing that their abandonment has mainly 
arisen from causes which can no longer operate, we 
should rejoice to see these solemn celebrations of the 
prominent events in the history of human redemption 
restored, in all their early simplicity and solemnity, 
throughout the Protestant Church. We regard their 
influence on the young as peculiarly happy. 

The farther consideration of religious education be¬ 
longs to the following division, to whose third chapter 
the reader is referred. 

Education for patriotism is much less difficult than 
that for Christianity; first, because its ideal is one 
that is easily comprehended; secondly, because pa¬ 
triotism is not based upon a history which is in part 
foreign, but upon that of the people itself. 

Patriotism may exist among every people that pos¬ 
sesses a history of its own; national customs and 
forms of life, which are mostly the results of the for¬ 
mer, or of the peculiar nature of the country, contrib¬ 
ute greatly to its advancement and growth. General 
desiderata for the cultivation of patriotism in the 
young are the following : 

1. An intimate acquaintance with the national his¬ 
tory, which should be taught in the schools, and kept 
before the public mind by the celebration of impor¬ 
tant events, i. e., by national festivals. 

2. Habituating the young to national peculiarities. 
This object will be attained without difficulty or coer¬ 
cion, if, 

3. The public life of the nation is animated by pa¬ 
triotism. If a people at large be destitute of lively 
patriotism, it may be best cultivated in narrower cir¬ 
cles of friends, whose patriotic life will diffuse its 
spirit by the force of example. These points are es¬ 
sential to the cultivation of a patriotic spirit. But the 
subject before us is vast in its extent, and of incalcula¬ 
ble importance, especially under a political constitu- 


292 


A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 


tion and government like ours ; yet it is difficult to 
mark out a course of education in view of a result 
which so greatly depends on the spirit by which a na¬ 
tion is actually animated, and upon influences which 
are as fitful in their course and as uncertain in their 
operation as the wind. In general, we may say, that 
when the young are properly educated in all other re¬ 
spects, and especially when they are brought to a due 
sense of their religious obligations, they cannot fail 
to become sound and conscientious patriots; yet, in 
order that their patriotism may be, 'politically, according 
to knowledge, the desiderata which we have mention¬ 
ed demand due attention ; and we may farther say, 
that every father should consider it his duty to instruct 
his sons, as soon as they are capable of understanding 
and appreciating such instruction, in the Constitution 
of this country, in the nature of the privileges which 
its citizens enjoy, and in the grave and important du¬ 
ties which these privileges involve. He should make 
them acquainted with the principles and the design of 
a government like ours, and point out the motives 
and purposes with which the elective franchise ought 
to be exercised. He ought to instruct them respect¬ 
ing the necessity, the nature, the scope, and the ob¬ 
ject of human laws, and inculcate a spirit of rev¬ 
erence for, and submission to, institutions without 
which order would be subverted, the bonds of society 
rent asunder, and all the affairs of men unhinged. It 
may here, indeed, be objected, that the great majority 
of fathers are destitute of such knowledge themselves, 
and hence incapable of communicating it. True ; 
but it is, and it must be, the object of that common- 
school system, which is rapidly gaining ground among 
us, to diffuse that sort of knowledge among our peo¬ 
ple which shall fit them for the proper exercise of 
their political rights, and the rational enjoyment of 
their civic privileges. Our schools, then, must begin 
the work; and we earnestly recommend that in all 
our common schools a course of instruction be intro¬ 
duced, whose general subjects and features we have 
presented above; but for this purpose, and to aid 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


293 


teachers in the performance of this duty, we need a 
text-book or political catechism adapted to the use of 
schools; and we hope that this desideratum may be, 
ere long» supplied by some one of our learned civilians 
who is both a patriot and a Christian. If the children 
who frequent our public schools should be thought to 
be, in general, too young to comprehend the whole 
subject under consideration, a course suited to their 
age should be adopted; and we would add, that it is 
precisely at this early age, which, as we all know, re¬ 
members better than any other, that the inculcation 
of correct views and principles with regard to all hu¬ 
man relations is pre-eminently important. The more 
extended course might then belong to higher schools 
and seminaries of learning. We regard this subject 
as one of great importance, and recommend it to the 
serious consideration of those to whom the direction 
and management of our scholastic institutions are in¬ 
trusted. 


DIVISION II. 

MORAL EDUCATION. 

CHAPTER I. 

The Moral Education of Man, considered as an Individ¬ 
ual. Cultivation of the Sense of Honour. 

The traits of character which are to be cultivated 
in view of the proper education of man in his individ¬ 
ual capacity, may be briefly stated as follows : Every 
man should regard himself individually as the equal 
of every other. This feeling of self-respect consti¬ 
tutes the true sense of honour. It is necessary care¬ 
fully to distinguish self-respect, as well from self-con¬ 
fidence, as from self-love (egotism), and from self-es¬ 
teem. When self-love and self-esteem are combined,, 
they constitute, in their union, the true and noble love 
of honour. That self-respect, which is here insisted 
B B 2 



294 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 


upon, has for its office merely to maintain inwardly 
the individual’s own dignity, and manifests itself in 
the capacity of what is termed generous pride only 
negatively, in repelling all arrogance and presumption. 
In contradistinction from this self-respect, we find, in 
human life, the following vicious qualities : false or 
feigned humility, self-contempt, or baseness of dispo¬ 
sition, and a grovelling or cringing temper; also, the 
following perversions, or rude and harsh manifesta¬ 
tions of the sense of honour, viz., insensibility, arro¬ 
gance, and ambition or vaingloriousness. 

The educator must here observe two stages of de¬ 
velopment in the pupil, and regulate his treatment of 
him according to his years. In the merely sensuous 
child or boy, who is yet far from being conscious of 
real petsonality, this personality should yet be pre¬ 
pared for its development; should be, in anticipation, 
gently treated and respected, as certain to manifest 
itself in future. This will be effected, 1. By cultiva¬ 
ting the child’s bodily health and vigour, which will, 
at least, produce a sort of physical self-respect, whose 
office it is to maintain its ground in the external 
world, as will subsequently the sense of honour in 
the world of mind. In this connexion it is also im¬ 
portant to accustom boys to hardships and the endu¬ 
rance of pain ; in short, to develop that genuine stoi¬ 
cism in which our effeminate age is so deficient. Boys 
should not be prevented from courageously using 
their fists in cases of real necessity, and in general 
they should, as far as practicable, be allowed to settle 
their childish quarrels themselves. 

2. By the proper treatment of stubbornness or self- 
will, which is not in all cases to be entirely condemn¬ 
ed, W which ought, in every instance in which it is 
clearly wrong and evil, to be repelled and resisted 
with inexorable severity and the utmost calmness. 
On this point the great majority of mothers betray the 
most culpable weakness. The evil here spoken of is 
one of the greatest magnitude; and, as it begins to 
manifest and develop itself in earliest infancy, this is 
the proper, and the only proper period for resisting 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


295 


and subduing it. When we consider the injudicious 
manner in which we usually see children treated in 
this respect, and the weakness and mistaken fondness 
which lead so many parents, and particularly moth¬ 
ers, to oppose remonstrances and coaxing to the stub¬ 
bornness and the self-will of their little ones, and 
even to give up to their violent explosions of temper, 
we feel that no apology is necessary for the introduc¬ 
tion here, from the work of Schwarz, of the follow¬ 
ing discussion of the subject: 

A. Abnormal Developments : their origin and 

PREVENTION. 

The first abnormal manifestation of the newborn 
child is its excessive screaming: this must be distin¬ 
guished from the first scream, which is produced by 
the reaction of the system against the numerous ex¬ 
citants to which it is exposed. But screaming is to 
be regarded as irregularity, when it betrays the incip- 
iency of selfishness ; and this is betrayed when, by 
screaming, the child offers resistance to its mother 
and others, and strives to invert the established order 
of things by attempting to rule. As yet, the child has 
no other means of making resistance except the use 
of its voice; but this unruly disposition will subse¬ 
quently manifest itself by striking, stamping, and the 
like. Such screaming may be distinguished by those 
who are about the child, not only by its angry tone, 
but also by its increasing in violence until the desired 
gratification has been obtained; and with this suc¬ 
cessful attempt, an association is formed between un¬ 
ruly conduct and the attainment of purposes, which 
will last through life. The child very soon discovers 
that by this means it can obtain its object; it knows 
this at first, as the animal does : for example, the 
dog, which asks its master for what it wants by bark¬ 
ing; but’it gradually learns, by experience, to effect 
by screaming whatever it desires, and to rule, by im¬ 
portunity, over those around it. For such a child it 
becomes very difficult to acquire, at any time, the 
feelings of love, of gratitude, of cheerfulness, of con- 


296 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

fiding attachment; it will always command—always 
regard those about it as tools, and even, in the end, 
regard itself in the same light. It will neither enjoy 
its own life, nor allow others rightly to enjoy theirs. 
If, then, at any time, a man, in whose childhood such 
abnormal manifestations were developed and indulged, 
should feel a desire for anything, or a want (and how 
few hours of life are free from wants!), he is peevish 
and morose, even before he seeks the gratification of 
his desire;. and this temper naturally grows worse 
by the experiences of each day; and out of it grow 
ill humour and suspicion. If any desired object has 
been obtained, he is not satisfied with it; and far from 
feeling grateful to those who do him favours, he talks 
of nothing but the additional demands which he might 
make, and thinks only of rights and claims where he 
ought to think of duties. If he have need of anything, 
or if any of his efforts be unsuccessful, he becomes a 
burden and torment to those around him and to him¬ 
self. He is always dissatisfied with things as they 
are, and never at peace with himself; and though 
he should have the semblance of religion, yet would 
he use God himself only as an instrument, and is con¬ 
stantly quarrelling with Providence. If morals be at 
all his study, his conduct is, in all things, artificial. 
In a person of this description, it is in vain to look for 
affection, and even his parents must not expect any 
from him. And thus the child, that is indulged in the 
unruly habit of effecting, by means of screaming, what¬ 
ever it desires, may become an intolerable egotist; 
and if this should not be the result, it will be because 
the circumstances of his life have prevented it, and 
for this parents may feel thankful to God. We meet, 
in the intercourse of life, many persons, whose ill- 
natured conduct will justify us in saying, “ they have, 
in their childhood, made trouble in the family by their 
screaming.” Varying with different dispositions and 
circumstances, such children become malicious, head¬ 
strong, irascible, spiteful, crafty, liars, sycophants, de¬ 
ceitful, cruel, tyrannical, &c. 

The existence, then, of this unruly habit, involves a 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


297 


serious charge against parents. No child is, indeed, 
so entirely possessed by it, that better features should 
not be now and then exhibited; but it is bad enough 
if once the habit has struck root. We should see a 
great many more children of good dispositions, if that 
evil habit were not permitted to form itself in the in¬ 
fant. 

The principal remedy for this evil is to repel the 
very first attempts of the child; not to give up to it, 
but to let it scream ; but to make it a point to satisfy 
its natural wants before it has occasion to demand 
gratification by screaming and importunity. In other 
respects it should be treated in as kindly a manner as' 
possible. This is the so-called subduing of the tem¬ 
per. 

It is a mistake to suppose that this must be effected 
by a sort of force; for, if this has actually become ne¬ 
cessary, it only proves that much of the evil already 
exists. This is, indeed, usually the case, as the prac¬ 
tice of yielding is the most common, and thus the per¬ 
verseness of the parents descends to the children. 
When, however, the evil really exists, nothing is left 
but this subduing of the temper; and the sooner this is 
accomplished the better, otherwise the evil will in¬ 
crease with each day, for the association becomes es¬ 
tablished and deeply seated in the organism. It is no 
better, or rather worse, if the child is remonstrated 
with; for, by so doing, a sort of dominion is conceded 
to it, and in the end, a pernicious struggle is the con¬ 
sequence, which stimulates to increased unruliness. 
“ But,” it is objected, “ the child will cry too much, and 
perhaps injure itself.” You may safely run the risk ; 
or, is the injury less if it becomes daily more head¬ 
strong 1 When shall the temper be subdued or the 
will broken 1 Will you leave it to time and circum¬ 
stances 1 This would be cruel; for the stern Neme¬ 
sis never omits to come, and she is a stranger to spa¬ 
ring gentleness. If the child sustain a bodily inju^, 
this may be cured ; or it may become happy even with 
it; but an ill-tempered child will certainly become 
an unhappy man. Nor is there great danger of inju- 


298 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

ry arising from screaming. When its exertions are 
destructive to itself, nature soon becomes sensible of 
it, and the child will scream no longer than it can bear 
it, at least not in early infancy: it will grow weary, 
and rest the more sweetly; and perhaps this exercise 
of the voice will even serve as a wholesome excite¬ 
ment to its animal organism ; but when the unruly 
child has been, for once, allowed to scream to its 
heart’s content without effecting its object, all is gain¬ 
ed ; that evil association is broken up ; it will not car¬ 
ry its second attempt so far, and nature is freed from 
its bonds; for, according to nature, the child feels it¬ 
self dependant on the will of others, and finds itself 
well at ease in this sense of dependance; much bet¬ 
ter than in its position of unnatural domination. I 
know an excellent mother, whose acute observation 
detected the beginning of this unruly tendency in her 
infant daughter when only six weeks of age. The 
child screamed in order to be taken from its bed; she 
let it lie, and it screamed more violently; it continued 
to scream for about fifteen minutes, until it could 
scarcely be endured; but the mother had firmness to 
persevere. The child screamed until it was weary, 
then fell asleep, and awoke in the best humour ima¬ 
ginable, and never made a similar attempt, but became 
a most obedient and amiable girl. Although it had 
been born with an umbilical rupture which had scarce¬ 
ly been healed, its screaming had not had the least in¬ 
jurious effects upon it. 

As the breaking from any habit always produces a 
disagreeable excitement, and that the more sensibly 
the more the evil habit has become confirmed, and 
the more it feels the restraint imposed upon its violent 
manifestations, so every means employed to correct 
the evil here particularly treated of cannot but leave 
a disagreeable impression in the child’s mind which 
can never be effaced; an aversion to the person who 
subjects it to restraint, which can only be prejudicial 
to affection and cheerfulness. The longer, therefore, 
the subduing of the will is put off, the more violently 
will the child be exasperated against those who ulti¬ 
mately attempt to curb it. Hence arises the univer- 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


299 


sally prevailing propensity of children to disobedience, 
and even aversion to education ; for a child, that has 
not been more or less neglected in this respect, is one 
of the greatest of rarities. All have, in some degree, 
to suffer for this early neglect, and never is the penal¬ 
ty completely cancelled ; for, in suffering for it, it is 
always again renewed, though it be but to a small de¬ 
gree. And, therefore, the disobedience of children is 
to the parents who complain of it, the penalty of sin ; 
and the same is true of all the bitterness and ill-will 
of the younger generation towards the elder, which 
suffers from the effects of these feelings and tempers. 

In extreme cases it will be necessary to resort to 
chastisement, and then the rod is a remedy, as an 
emetic is for divers diseases. In its bodily pain, the 
child feels the displeasure of its parents ; and this 
feeling resolves itself into the association that such 
attempts must in future be abstained from, in order 
that such pain may be avoided. But the child’s heart 
is, at the same time, excited to humility by its own 
sense of the justness of its suffering, and the dis¬ 
pleasure of the parents now becomes the displeasure 
of the child with regard to itself. This mode of 
treatment, though severe, strengthens the child’s ca¬ 
pacity for self-government. It is true that, if the 
course thus adopted be not persevered in, the case be¬ 
comes worse than it was before; for then the child 
has been exasperated, and becomes malicious; and, 
what is more, feels its own superiority to the will of 
its parents. But if the child is really brought to feel 
the superiority of its parents (and how can it other¬ 
wise, except they themselves be weakl), in that mo¬ 
ment nature resumes its prerogative ; the child’s heart 
has been softened, and its will become pliant; and as 
soon as the hand of affection is again held out to it, it 
will cling the more fondly to its parents. It is inhe¬ 
rent in human nature that he who is the weaker, and 
needs the support and guidance of others, should 
cheerfully content himself when he is made to per¬ 
ceive the strength of his guide, and perhaps even to 
become sensible of it by means of suffering in his 
own person. 


300 A PLAN OP YOllTHFUL CULTURE 


When chastisement is administered, let it be brief, 
and severe in exact proportion to the necessity of the 
case, lest it degenerate into worrying; and let all 
scolding be abstained from, for this only exasperates. 
One single severe word, c. g., “silence!” uttered 
with a commanding voice, is better than many. But 
let all be done without passion, for an angry face 
can only produce a frightful impression on the child. 
And now, when the child is content and yields, let 
him at once again see a serene brow and an uncloud¬ 
ed face, and talk with him about other things ; this 
will operate like the warm sunshine after the first 
thunder-storm in spring. The unseemly habit of 
which we speak is exhibited, in an inferior degree, 
by children who are prone to much weeping. This 
occurs most frequently in sensitive natures. By vio¬ 
lent dispositions it is manifested in a higher degree 
by striking indiscriminately at all around; and in mo¬ 
rose tempers it is displayed by vexation, which boils 
and rankles within.* As tears may injure the eyes, 
care should be taken that they be soon wiped away. 

If the child should cry from ennui, it is, indeed, to be 
also regarded as an impropriety, but it is, at the same 
time, an indication that the child is not sufficiently 
employed; and nothing is more easily remedied than 
this. Give the child something that will entertain it, 
before ill-humour can intrude and gain a footing. 
When the child cries because there is something to 
irritate it, let it be quickly brought into a different 
position. If its crying be occasioned by bodily pain 
or sickness, sympathy should be manifested towards 
it; but if this should provoke a desire in the child to 
attract still greater attention and compassion, it will 
be necessary to drop all expressions of sympathy, 
and rather to encourage and cheer up the child, or to 
direct its attention to something else.f 


* The following passage from St. Augustine strikingly illustrates this 
sort of disposition. “ Vidi ego et expertus sum zelantem parvulum. Non- 
dum loquebatur, et intuebatur pallidus amaro adspectu collactaueum su- 
um.” 

t For those who are conversant with children, it will not be difficult to 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


301 


As this species of misdemeanour, the worst that ap¬ 
pears in the first months of life, is generally exhibited 
on those occasions which are inseparably connected 
with the earliest training of the child to order, e. g., 
when it is washed or laid down, &c., all that can be 
recommended here is, do not suffer the child’s 
screaming to interfere with your operations; it will 
soon accustom itself, and cheerfully submit to them. 

If the child be sickly, both physical and mental 
culture will, of course, suffer. In such a case, no¬ 
thing can be done but to indulge it, as far as the disease 
renders indulgence necessary, but, at the same time, 
to guard it, as much as possible, against ill humour. 
Many parents indulge their children, under such cir¬ 
cumstances, more than is necessary. If, in giving 
them nourishment, in washing them, &c., they be 
subjected, on those days in which they enjoy a better 
state of health, to the usual order of life ; if they be 
not too timorously treated, nature will always assist 
in curing the inward evil which she has herself oc¬ 
casioned. I once saw a boy who passed the first 
years of his life in constant suffering from sore eyes; 
so much so, that he could scarcely see, and was con¬ 
fined to a dark corner. Whenever he heard the other 
children playing joyously around him, he would some¬ 
times stamp on the floor from pain and vexation. 
The parents were apprehensive lest he should be¬ 
come a malicious and envious boy. I advised them 
to take no notice of his displays of temper, while 
they continued the application of remedies to his 
eyes ; to persevere in habituating him to regularity in 
the reception of food, and otherwise to treat him 
kindly and gently. This was done ; they neither 
spoiled him, nor treated him with neglect; and 
when, after some time, he was cured of his ailment, 
he manifested none of those evil dispositions which 
had been apprehended, for they were not in his na¬ 
ture, and his sickness had not led to the formation of 
any unruly habit. He became one of the most cheer- 

distinguish and properly to treat the different varieties of crying. Jean 
Paul Fr. Richter has, in his Levana, many excellent hints on this subject. 

Cc 


302 A PLAN OP YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

ful, good-natured, and amiable boys. Nature always 
makes amends for whatever evils she is alone ac* 
countable for. 

In proportion as the child’s self-consciousness is de 
veloped, self-will more and more advances its claims 
and this takes place to the detriment of good impul 
ses, just in proportion as the particular virtues suffer 
The first of these is complaisance, a kind regard foi 
the happiness of others: egotism is opposed to this 
at one time in the shape of obstinacy, at another in 
that of indolence. These, then, are the first definite 
forms in which degeneracy is manifested in children; 
and each of these produces a series of new ones, 
which, in the progress of time, enter into a variety of 
combinations with others. Obstinacy springs from 
the nascent consciousness of the freedom of the will, 
and consists in a striving for independence of con¬ 
trol, without reference to any particular purpose, but 
merely in order to be independent. The contempla¬ 
tive temperament exhibits this degenerate trait more 
in pure obstinacy, as a feeling which submits with re- 
-pugnance to foreign control, and therefore repels such 
control without any farther reason. Natures, whose 
tendency is to activity in the external world, will 
manifest it more in the form of self-will; they seek 
to rule, and refuse to be guided by others; and when 
the will of such children is to be subdued, and to be 
subjected to that of the parents, they will strive to 
assert their own, and sometimes to carry it by vio¬ 
lent efforts. 

Boys, therefore, are in general more self-willed, af¬ 
terward impatient of contradiction, and lastly refrac¬ 
tory ; girls more frequently obstinate, peevish, and 
ill-humoured; but both will then be disobedient, and 
may become intractable and headstrong. Indolence 
is egotism in its feebleness, i. e., Avhen the natural 
powers refuse to exert themselves for their cultiva¬ 
tion. In lively and susceptible dispositions, this will 
manifest itself by an easy surrender to every impres¬ 
sion, by levity and frivolity; in firm and reflective dis- 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


303 


positions, by retirement into themselves to the extent 
even of thoughtlessness and idle revery. Both these 
generic corruptions are hostile to attention: the first 
will not receive, the second will not pay attention to 
anything; the first has lost the cultivating energy 
(love) by -hn irregular resistance, the second by an 
excessive submissiveness. 

The three virtuous tendencies of children are ob¬ 
structed in their specific manifestations by egotism. 
It opposes industry, on the one hand, by a determina¬ 
tion to be idle, which, when carried to extremes, is 
called laziness ; but, on the other hand, by a mode of 
life which has neither method nor fixed aim, and is 
called instability. It prevents true cheerfulness, either 
directly in the form of gloominess, or in that of ex¬ 
travagant hilarity, and it contravenes the development 
of pious feeling, either in the shape of selfishness, 
which repudiates every feeling of dependance, or in 
the form of sensuality, which abandons itself to sen¬ 
sual gratifications. 

And thus these marks of degeneracy develop them¬ 
selves progressively to the age of youth, when they 
become passions, and lead to deeper corruption, and 
everywhere throw obstacles into the way of virtuous 
self-government, of ideal culture, and of everything 
that belongs to good character. Ilefore we trace the 
farther development of these corruptions, we shall 
present a few general observations on the means 
which should be employed to combat them. 

Of such means there are two classes, constituting 
either a negative or a positive mode of procedure. 
The first mode anticipates, prevents, and corrects; 
the second interferes, ‘expels, and eradicates: the 
former belongs mainly to the entire plan of education; 
the latter consists in single, occasional measures, to 
be designated as rewards and punishments; and it is 
this of which we are here to speak. 

A single remedy, which is applied as a medicine, 
operates as a stimulant; and it is necessary here to 
attend to the psychological principle, that such remedy 
ought to be neither too stimulating nor too relaxing in 


304 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 


its operation; its quantity or potency should be well 
weighed, in order, at the time and place, and in the 
manner necessary, to produce that stimulus which 
will restore health, i. e., restore the patient’s powers 
to their equilibrium, so as less and less* to require 
stimulants or medicines. If we were to'hdopt a dif¬ 
ferent course, and to create an increasing necessity 
for new and stronger stimulants, we shouW resemble 
the empiric, who cures his patient of one disease by 
poisoning him, or, at least, so treating him as to bring 
on another disease. Do not expel one demon by 
another, nor leave the door open for him to return 
after he has taken to himself seven others, so that the 
condition of your pupil has become worse than it was 
before. In the treatment of corruptions, parents and 
teachers usually commit the greatest faults, and do, 
perhaps, more harm than is done in the use of medi¬ 
cine by quacks. Only in the way indicated above 
may rewards and punishments be employed, i. e., ac¬ 
cording to the laws of stimulants; but the former 
should be less frequently administered than the lat¬ 
ter, because praise operates, as is well known, more 
powerfully and deeply than censure, and therefore 
induces, more easily, the evil of vanity. 

Punishments, in the pedagogic sense, are means of 
discipline; and they dilfer essentially from the pun¬ 
ishment of crime by the civil magistrate in this, that 
they aim only at the reformation of the person pun¬ 
ished. They consist in the endurance of deserved 
suffering, which the educator inflicts in order to bring 
his pupil to self-knowledge, and to effect his reforma¬ 
tion. They ought to resemble Divine chastisements, 
in that the person who punishes manifests indignation, 
virtuous wrath, which, to the heart of the person pun¬ 
ished, should be an evidence of love. Through the 
rigour of severity, the kind intention ought to be dis¬ 
cernible ; but if, on the other hand, the smallest de¬ 
gree of vindictiveness, of hatred, of injustice on the 
part of the educator is displayed in the infliction of 
punishment, its wholesome operation is not only lost, 
but it becomes a poison. Even if it be unaccompanied 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


305 


by due seriousness, it will operate unfavourably, in¬ 
asmuch as it will cause the child, or young person 
punished, to hold in contempt the punishment and him 
who administers it. It must, therefore, be adapted to 
the age of the child: smaller children feel only the 
rod ; older ones are more sensible to wounds inflicted 
on their sense of honour than to bodily pain. 

The end of punishment is best attained if the child 
can find in it the restoration of its inward peace; a 
sort of expiation to which it will gladly submit. 
Children of good dispositions will sometimes, of their 
own accord, ofter themselves for punishment; and, af¬ 
ter the pain is over, such are usually more cheerful and 
more affectionate towards their rigorous guide. This 
effect should be aimed at; but never should the suf¬ 
ferer be induced to kiss the hand which has inflicted 
chastisement, for this makes hypocrites: nor should 
natural punishments be contrived, as Rousseau rec¬ 
ommends ; for in him who inflicts punishment the 
child should recognise a sacred authority of will, but 
not be tempted to act a part. 

It is unnecessary to add any more particular rules; 
and we merely subjoin the general observation: Let 
punishment always be just, suited to the evil which is 
to be removed, and really calculated to effect its cure, 
according to the rules for the progressive application of 
stimulants. Larger children should accordingly be 
first reproved, then, for a season, deprived of liberty, 
and lastly, if the offence be again repeated, let the 
rod be administered ; but, when the punishment has 
been inflicted, do not give the child reason to believe 
that you bear it any farther ill will. 

We proceed to the application, taking up the cor¬ 
ruptions above specified in due order: 

1. Obstinacy and self-will. The child wishes to rule, 
and to treat the persons who are about it in the same 
manner as it does the little articles which are given 
•to it: thus, for example, it will command the mother 
to give it something to eat, and if she does not instant¬ 
ly comply, it will cry; nor will it become quiet un¬ 
til its commands are complied with. To refuse pos- 


306 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 


itively, and to persist in the refusal, while all other 
proper attention is shown to the child, this is the sover¬ 
eign, universally known, domestic remedy, but which 
is, unfortunately, so little employed. It is a remedy 
that must be eifectual. For why does not the child 
storm against nature 1 Why does it not command 
the tree to hang itself full of “cherries, or to hand 
them down to it 1 Those persons with whom it has 
to do are, indeed, a complaisant nature, upon whom 
it can more easily make demands ; but if they were 
as inexorable, whenever it is necessary, as external 
nature in refusing, the child would submit to its de- 
pendance with regard to them as well as to nature, 
and refrain from fruitless wishes, entreaties, and ef¬ 
forts, particularly if its natural wants are, at the same 
time, duly attended to. Should the child be unman¬ 
ageable, and its conduct become outrageous, it ought 
to be shut up by itself; i. e., it should be removed to 
a secluded, but not dark or disagreeable place, where 
it will feel the privation imposed upon it; and there 
it should be left until it has again become quiet and 
submissive. If the son of Themistocles could say, 
“ My will is the will of all Athens ; for what I will, 
that my mother wills ; and what she wills, my father 
wills ; and what he wills, that the Athenians will,” 
we need not be surprised that this son became un¬ 
worthy of his father. Socrates could hold him up as 
an example, proving that virtue cannot be communi¬ 
cated by instruction. 

When the child has acquired a taste for ruling, it 
will be fond of making experiments in the exercise of 
dominion, at one time out of pride, at another from 
caprice; for the child which is fond of executing, 
and strives directly forward to its object, while it has 
an eye, not to the object only, but also to itself, and 
delights to say to itself, “ I must, at all events, have my 
wall,” such a child will sport with its will. But from 
such conduct proceed that ennui and chagrin which’ 
are called ill-humour. This is a disagreeable state of 
mind, which self-willed obstinacy will seek to re¬ 
move by setting others in activity on its account, in 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


307 


order to enjoy the consciousness of authority and 
power. After all the child’s demands have been com¬ 
plied with, it is still dissatisfied with everything, and is 
then usually peevish and fretful if it cannot think of 
anything more to demand; and, in the end, it desires 
only to torment all with whom it has to do. 

Self-will is perseverance in external action ; obsti¬ 
nacy, in refusing to receive or admit influences from 
without: the latter is, in its nature, more deeply* seat¬ 
ed and permanent, but the former is more violent and 
unruly. In both, it is not the perseverance which is 
to be regarded as evil: nor should the self-regard 
peculiar to the former, nor the proclivity of the latter 
to sensitiveness, be viewed as such; but in the.for- 
mer, the desire to rule, and in the latter, the propen¬ 
sity to contemplation, should be suppressed in season. 
The suppression of the former is effected by positive, 
that of the latter rather by negative treatment: for 
example, your little boy insists that you shall mend 
his whip for him, and none but you, his mother, shall 
do it; you have positively refused, but he becomes 
more importunate; he screams, stamps on the floor, 
and repeats his demand: “ But you shall do it.” (Who 
has not, time and again, witnessed such scenes 1) 
Others have offered their services, but that is not to 
his mind. Say nothing to him, except at the most, 
with perfect calmness, “No! Be still.” If he be¬ 
comes too noisy, assign him a seat by himself; and 
when he becomes more quiet, think of something that 
is to be seen or done, and direct his activity towards 
it, but without directly requiring his action, in order 
that he may not lose his sense of freedom, and yet be 
sensible that no one else bows to his will. Though 
this method may not always be successful in the first 
paroxysm, it will yet, in most cases, succeed after 
the first heat has passed off; and if your attempts 
should then still be unsuccessful, let him sit, even 
though he should have to fast for some hours. As 
self-will proceeds from impetuosity of temper, seek 
to give this a different direction, and, at all events, 


308 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

oppose to its efforts the firmest resistance, by which 
it will not fail to be broken in the end. 

Your little girl pouts because she has not been 
first attended to, and now she makes this a matter of 
complaint. When you have told her to be quiet, she 
complains of something else ; you endeavour to re¬ 
move the grievance, but her peevishness increases; 
she demands first one thing, then another, and refuses 
to move. What is to be done 1 Nothing. Take no 
notice of the morose child ; let her stand ; let her not 
interfere with your pursuits; and if she becomes too 
noisy, put her by herself. Let no one, in the mean 
time, speak to her, least of all irritate her; in short, 
deport yourself as though she were not present. Thus 
she not only fails of effecting her object, but discovers 
that in this way nobody manifests any concern about 
her; and in the end, while nothing has been done to 
blunt her sensibility or to weaken her firmness, she 
will be obliged to yield, and to use entreaty. As soon 
as she has, in any degree, become pacified, give her, 
without any artificial management, some commission, 
which you know beforehand that she will take pleas¬ 
ure in executing. 

The more affection there is in the child, the more 
painfully sensible will it be of its unruly conduct, if 
in this manner it discovers that those whom it loves 
cease to concern themselves about it when it misbe¬ 
haves. But if these persons should add reproaches, 
or appear hurt by its conduct, they would, on the one 
hand, permit the child Hd partially attain its purpose, 
and thus nourish its evil dispositions, and, on the other 
hand, they would exasperate it. By entering into 
long remonstrances with the child, they would only 
protract the longer its evil state of mind; but, when 
its misdemeanours are resisted in the manner recom¬ 
mended, it will be soonest restored to its cheerfulness. 
Your treatment tends directly to effect this. When 
the paroxysm has passed off, you should allow your 
child to consider all as forgotten, and treat it with 
your wonted kindness. With such treatment, it is 
scarcely possible for obstinacy to make any progress; 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


309 


nor would these displays of temper ever have occur¬ 
red, if you had not, from the beginning, indulged your 
child in commanding. Such exhibitions of temper 
should not, however, be overrated, for children of an 
energetic or sensitive temperament cannot remain 
entirely free from them. 

From this tendency to domineer, i. <?., from the nat¬ 
ural feeling of self-importance, there proceeds yet an¬ 
other very prevalent irregularity, namely this, that 
children determine to pursue a certain line of conduct 
simply because it has been forbidden them. To this 
there is a propensity in all men (“ nitimur in vetitum 
semper, cupimusque negata,” says Ovid); not, how¬ 
ever, consisting in a deliberate purpose of wrong-do¬ 
ing, iDut in the struggles of selfishness beginning to 
advance its claims. The energies involved in this 
struggle are bent upon exertion. The first excitement 
to this is given by prohibitions, and it is these which 
make such efforts possible ; but inasmuch as they also 
obstruct their exercise, they furnish an additional and 
stronger excitement. The child sees the possibility 
of maintaining an ascendency over those who have 
imposed on it a certain prohibition, and through whom 
it therefore finds itself restricted, and this discovery 
gives new force to the excitement. Thus every pro¬ 
hibition excites to at least secret transgression, by 
exciting the selfish desire of independence, in the con¬ 
sciousness of energy which belongs to our nature. 
Now if parents are gratified by such demonstrations, 
and foolishly regard them as marks of a noble dispo¬ 
sition, then wo to their child. The case of frank, up¬ 
right, and honest children is then the most hopeful, 
because with them the evil will break forth in undis¬ 
guised rebellion; but others feign obedience, while 
their temper secretly rebels against the prohibition, 
and they long to be delivered from their chains. 
These are hypocritical and truly disobedient children, 
and they become deceitful, cunning, and spiteful. As 
this evil is once seated in the heart, and cannot be en¬ 
tirely prevented, it should rather be suffered to break 
forth openly, in order that it may, as far as possible, 


310 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

be combated. This may be accomplished in the fol¬ 
lowing manner: when anything has been forbidden 
the child, let something else be pointed out to it which 
will excite its activity, and cause it to forget that 
which it is not allowed to do ; and it will then be bet¬ 
ter if the prohibition be so pronounced as to almost 
escape its attention. In general, it would be best not 
to multiply prohibitions. But what is accomplished 
by it 1 In all legislation against rudeness, against ir¬ 
regular conduct, we trace the evidences of the per¬ 
verseness of human nature, and it is nothing but indo¬ 
lence in discipline that calls forth a countless multi¬ 
tude of prohibitions, of which each renders a new one 
necessary. The educator should keep in view the 
method adopted in the beginning by the Creator in 
the discipline of man. 

Every attempt to remedy this evil by reasoning or 
argument, designed to demonstrate to the child the 
necessity of the prohibition, would only aggravate 
the injury already done ; for the child has, as yet, no 
capacity to appreciate argument, and ought not to 
have any. You will, therefore, only excite it to en¬ 
tirely unnatural attempts; for it will begin to make 
stipulations, and endeavour to maintain its ground 
against those whom it ought only to obey; it will ac¬ 
quire an absolute aversion to obedience, contract 
habits of falsehood, and other evil practices, and thus 
its state is one of many untoward excitements. 
“ But the child must subdue its temper, and learn to 
act according to duty.” Yes ; but do not, as yet, ex¬ 
pect this of the child, if you would not train it to be a 
hypocrite or an impudent rebel, destined to become a 
moping and disagreeable man, whose soul is in per¬ 
petual strife with itself. To lead the child into temp¬ 
tation is no better than prematurely accusing its art¬ 
less heart of evil; it is to create cause for offence ; it 
is monstrous wrong-doing. 

A kindred manifestation of degeneracy is that of 
teasing; it is a mode of acting, in which children 
betray their growing selfishness when they strive to 
carry their own points in opposition to their equals, 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


311 


in order, by means of trifling, but provoking tricks 
of irritation, to make their superiority felt. This 
practice, at the same time, nourishes the obstinacy 
of those who are thus teased; and hence, when 
this ambition of the weak to domineer has once 
fairly established itself among a circle of brothers 
and sisters, there will be no end of intolerable strug¬ 
gling and wrangling. The older children of this de¬ 
scription are apt thus to tease the younger ones ; and 
if they be more vigorous than the latter, they are 
prone to exercise authority over them. They attain 
this purpose the more easily, as they have frequent 
occasion to assist the younger children, without re¬ 
garding them in the same light in which they do 
grown persons; without feeling towards them the 
natural impulse to obedience which they feel towards 
their parents. If their efforts are successful, they 
become completely imperious, insufferable to their 
playmates, and, under certain circumstances, tyran¬ 
nical, cruel, and malicious. How shall this evil be 
arrested in its incipiencyl Above all things, avoid 
all argumentation, all efforts to convince your chil¬ 
dren of relative rights, if you would not make them 
hypocritical, disputatious, and hateful; but do not al¬ 
low their injurious efforts to succeed for one moment. 
If you observe anything of this kind, deprive the lit¬ 
tle usurper forthwith of his violently obtained spoils, 
and give him a smart rap on his fingers. If a gener¬ 
al dispute should arise about the object has 

caused the difficulty, take it away from all the chil¬ 
dren without farther parley, or adding, at most, two 
or three peremptory words, and endeavour to direct 
their attention to something else. 

2. Children become indolent when their attention is 
either too little taxed or only occasionally exercised. 
In the former case, inactivity of mind, and even stu¬ 
pidity, are the result, even though there may be 
physical activity. In the latter, children become 
trifling, incapable of connected thought, intractable, 
and averse to persevering exertion. They learn 
nothing well; they will sit still and listen to instruc- 


312 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

lion, and even be fond of reading; but they will ac¬ 
custom themselves, in all things, to be supplied with 
employment by others; and even in the play of 
imagination, in which they seem to display talent, 
they will be merely passive. 

3. Laziness is the expanded form of the preceding 
evil, in its positive annihilation of industry. This is 
induced by indulging indolence, and nourished by 
idleness and want of excitement. It will often be 
found where the routine of business is slow and 
drowsy, but not unfrequently, also, in families where 
the children are not sufficiently excited to activity. 
It affects either mental or bodily exertions alone, and 
often both at once. As the natural impulses will in¬ 
cline to mere enjoyment, in proportion as they are 
diverted from active exertion, lazy children will usu¬ 
ally become gluttonous, uncleanly, thievish, given to 
lying. Contemplative natures, particularly effemi¬ 
nate ones, or persons of phlegmatic temperament, are 
the most likely to contract habits of laziness. 

Nature herself points out the remedy for this evil, 
for necessity compels man to work. Let, then, lazy 
children suffer the want of one thing or another 
which they may happen to desire or stand in need of, 
and that so long until the sense of this want becomes 
painful, or until they have earned, by some active 
exertion, the object desired, even though it be their 
necessary food. This treatment has proved effectual 
both in families and in houses of correction. In the 
case of children, a perfect cure can be more certainly 
effected than with adults, because nature still prompts 
them to activity, and the evil habit has not yet become 
fixed. But labour should not be made unpleasant to 
them, by giving them more than they can accomplish; 
they should be gradually accustomed to greater ex¬ 
ertion, and to this they should be encouraged by mod¬ 
erate praise and kind treatment. 

Uncleanliness is nothing more than laziness sup¬ 
ported by the absence of a sense of propriety. No¬ 
thing will here avail except inexorable firmness in 
cultivating the opposite habits. 


AND INSTRUCTIOxV. 


313 


4. InstaUlity proceeds from not fixing the attention, 
particularly of more active children; from leaving 
them too much at their own disposal, and not habitu¬ 
ating them to perseverance: hence arises a restless 
and fickle activity; the boy undertakes with ardour, but 
soon abandons his undertaking, and commences some¬ 
thing new; at length he becomes averse to begin any 
serious employments ; he runs about, plays, amuses 
his fancy, &c. Thus this sort of activity is converted 
into a passion for amusement, and even into intellect¬ 
ual laziness. This evil is not unfrequently found in 
the cultivated class, when many studies are commen¬ 
ced with children, but none perseveringly prosecuted; 
and an easy, entertaining mode of instruction serves 
only to establish it. In schools and educational in¬ 
stitutions, the same evil is often produced by the 
adoption of too great a variety of studies. It usually 
does not fully display itself until the youth enters col¬ 
lege, or the maiden is brought out into society ; the 
absence of all inclination for serious employment then 
betrays itself completely, as also a decided propensi¬ 
ty to idle gossip and amusement. 

It is not easy to cure this evil, if the child has 
been given up to it until it is seven years of age. It 
will be necessary to return to the starting-point of ju¬ 
dicious education, by exercising the child’s attention, 
by giving it easy tasks of progressive difficulty, just 
difficult enough to leave a certainty of their success¬ 
ful performance ; whatever can distract the attention, 
should be removed; instruction itself must be exceed¬ 
ingly simple, one subject only being undertaken at a 
time, and completed before another is taken up ; and 
when once the child has tasted the pleasure of really 
accomplishing anything, it will thus receive a power¬ 
ful impulse to perseverance ; but the victory obtained 
must be resolutely followed up. 

As the indolent, although averse to serious and prof¬ 
itable employment, would not be totally idle, a mul¬ 
titude of evils spring from indolence; and they are 
such as we hear most frequently animadverted upon. 
Awkward postures of the body, clownish and clum- 
D D 


314 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

sy manners, noisy conduct, boisterous laughter, silly 
and stupid remarks, gluttony, pilfering and junketing, 
&c., are physical or mental activities, produced by a 
combination of sensuality and indolence, and making 
a most disagreeable impression on all around. For 
these there is no other remedy than to accustom the 
child, in general, to the proper exercise of its powers, 
and to assail the evil habits by the infliction of severe 
punishments. But with punishments it is necessary 
to be economical, lest, coming too often, they blunt 
the better feelings of the child. Nothing is more in¬ 
jurious than constant chiding, or to be perpetually 
scolding at the child on account of some evil habit: 
rather let cautious physicians be imitated, by remo¬ 
ving one evil ere you attack the other. 

As regards, 5, gloominess, or habitual moroseness; 
and the other extreme, 6, excessive levity or frivolity, 
we may remark, that the judicious treatment of chil¬ 
dren in their general education, especially in view of 
the corrupt manifestations already considered, will 
serve also as a preventive against these. Yet mood¬ 
iness or gloominess must sometimes be directly as¬ 
sailed by urging children to exertion and the exer¬ 
cise of courage, without noticing their foible, and by 
increasing your demands upon them when they are 
ill-humoured. Even punishments are in this case ef¬ 
fectual, by effecting a revolution in their state of feel¬ 
ing. Yet, if indulgent treatment, or cockering, can 
only increase the moroseness of children, continued 
harsh treatment would not be less injurious. The 
great point will be to provide them with cheerful com¬ 
pany, to treat them kindly, to employ them regularly, 
and, in case of necessity, to use severity. A tenden¬ 
cy to levity and frivolity must be seasonably checked 
by very similar treatment. An indirect, but perhaps 
the most effectual remedy against it consists in cul¬ 
tivating the sense of hearing, and the memory, by fre¬ 
quent exercises. 

7. Selfishness is a development of egotism which 
dissolves all pious feeling. A general want of affec¬ 
tion, particularly towards the parents, feebleness of 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


315 


filial feelings, produce a transition from egotism to 
disobedience, and in more energetic natures, to rebel¬ 
lion. These corruptions, therefore, appear in those 
families where parents do not respond to the young 
affections of their offspring, and inspire their children 
with neither love nor respect; and the evil develops 
itself equally, though in different ways, among the 
rich and the poor, the cultivated and the rude. And 
where there is no respect for religion; where the 
young are not brought up to prayer and the fear of 
God, all pious feeling will expire in the early years of 
life, and the welfare of the family, and that of the 
nation, is destroyed. There is no practical truth old¬ 
er or more sacred than this, that reverence and love 
towards parents brings a blessing on children and 
children’s children, and that there is no wisdom with¬ 
out the fear of God; but if once the young have 
been neglected in this respect, they are not easily re¬ 
formed, and never completely so : hence all cor 
ruptions belonging to this category must be smother¬ 
ed in their birth. The more mature manifestations 
are,,d.ogmatical churlishness, rudeness, harshness,de¬ 
ception, and violence. 

. The remedy is simple, if it be early applied. The 
entire treatment of the child, and perhaps its external 
position, must be changed. It must learn to respect 
and love those that are about it. All unseasonable 
indulgence must cease, and rigorous firmness be op¬ 
posed to the disobedient child. The treatment rec¬ 
ommended under previous heads will be effectual 
here also. In addition, we observe, that the child 
should not receive many commands, and at first chief¬ 
ly such as it may be expected to obey willingly and 
cheerfully; and then an affectionate recognition of 
its active proofs of affection will exert a good influ¬ 
ence. If the child be destitute of grateful feelings, it 
should not be attempted to elicit these forcibly, by 
means of censure; for this would procure the bene¬ 
factor nothing but hatred, and expressions of grati¬ 
tude would only be base lies. But the ‘child should 
be occasionally instructed respecting the odiousness 


316 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

of ingratitude, and, at the same time, treated rather 
coolly, and with bare justice, in order that it may 
learn to appreciate benefits as such. If it lack confi¬ 
dence, this may be gained by kind treatment and little 
kind offices. The selfish little mortal should be fre¬ 
quently made to feel his destitution and dependance 
on others. The necessary instruction in religion 
should on no account be neglected : this will awa¬ 
ken filial feelings, and revive, as far as possible, the 
deadened germ of good. All this should be done ear¬ 
ly ; if deferred to the later years of boyhood, or even 
of youth, the difficulties are multiplied a hundred 
fold. The father, who would then yet recover the 
confidence of his son, must first thoroughly ascertain 
by what means he formerly alienated the confiding 
affections of his child, and now studiously omit all 
such measures, however he may be able to justify 
them, such as anger, chiding, moralizing; let him 
manifest the greatest kindness towards the youth, 
and show that in all allowed and expedient things he 
sympathizes with his youthful joys. 

8. Sensuality consists in the child’s self-abandon¬ 
ment to the gratification of the lower senses, and 
therefore chiefly to the consumption of confectiona^ 
ry, dainties, &c. Thus arises immoderation, lustful¬ 
ness, daintiness ; and out of these irregularities pro¬ 
ceed developments of still lower sensuality. To 
these evils contemplative natures are most inclined. 
But generally such irregularities are found where 
children are too much indulged, where there is too 
much good living in the family, and where the chil¬ 
dren thus become accustomed to consider luxurious 
living as important. The principal preventive reme¬ 
dy for all such sensual and effeminate irregularities 
consists in adhering, from childhood, to a healthy, 
regular, and active mode of life, in which the child 
must be brought to accustom itself to obedience, in¬ 
dustry, and simple diet, in connexion with innocent 
pleasures suited to its age. Where these evils actu¬ 
ally exist, a* regular course of training for theii* remo- 


AND INSTRUCTION. 317 

val must be adopted, and a rigid school of self-denial 
and endurance of privations instituted. 

All the abnormal developments exhibited in the 
ramifications which have been specified, form a mul¬ 
tiplicity of combinations with each other; thus mutu¬ 
ally strengthening each other, and degenerating far¬ 
ther into corruptions, which usually manifest them¬ 
selves in the age of youth. But it will not be neces¬ 
sary to descend into greater detail, as the necessary 
mode of treatment has been sufficiently developed 
under the preceding general heads. 

B. 

Treatment of Corrupted Youth. 

All men are more or less under the influence of 
selfishness, which subjects one more particularly to 
sensual gratification, another to avarice, a third to am¬ 
bition, but each, at the same time, to vanity and pride. 
These two, vanity and pride, are the generic tenden¬ 
cies, and stand in opposition to the virtue of youth, 
even though the more specific corruptions should have 
been prevented or subdued. Pride is a feeling of inde¬ 
pendence, which is unaccompanied by enthusiasm for 
the ideal, which may otherwise have already been at¬ 
tained, and it therefore destroys modesty and humility 
in the root. Vanity is that sense of self-importance 
which is sought and acquired by means of accident¬ 
al, external, trifling things, and, therefore, by adopt¬ 
ing the manners and ways of the world. To the for¬ 
mer fault young men are more exposed; to the lat¬ 
ter, young females; but the foundation is laid at an 
early age. Parents exaggerate the merits of their 
children, so that they learn to think of their own im¬ 
portance ; when they speak and act, they are no lon¬ 
ger entirely free from the purpose of putting forth 
claims to consideration; they become more and more 
arrogant because their advances are not resisted; 
thus they at the same time become cold and indiffer¬ 
ent to the interests of others; they become dogmati¬ 
cal ; are easily offended, captious, disputatious, and 


318 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

unyielding; grow rude, and deal out blows, or refuse 
to listen to others; and seek to fix upon themselves 
alone the attention of the company. We often meet 
with young men or women who, when in company, 
will scarcely deign to bestow an answer, or so much 
as a glance, on those persons whom they esteem of 
little importance. In such young persons pride has 
already attained its full development; whether in the 
form of pride of station, or of wealth, or of intellect, 
or genius, or of pedantry, &c., or of a self-compla¬ 
cent conceit of their superior refinement. Obvious¬ 
ly as this sort of pride is more at home among the 
more wealthy, and those (often by a sad misnomer) 
©ailed the more cultivated class, because parents, as 
it were, inoculate the children with it, especially 
when motives of ambition are employed as spurs to 
learning, or when the young are early introduced in 
the social circles of adults ; it is no less certain that 
it obtains, to some extent also, among those who 
have no pretensions to refinement. 

The vanity of young persons manifests itself in 
their passion for admiration. Children become vain 
by learning to draw upon themselves the attention of 
others. There is too much notice taken of their 
pretty ways and their graceful bearing ; they are 
toyed with like dolls, adorned, and admired ; they are 
called upon to repeat sayings or actions which are 
considered fine : by these and other practices they are 
trained to act a part, to do everything, as it were, be¬ 
fore a glass. No wonder if they fall into absurdities 
in speaking and acting, by which they aim at making 
an impression; and by fondling and dandling them 
the evil is aggravated. Young men thus become 
shallow votaries of fashion, and young women dressy 
coquettes ; and if there be a want of love for the ideal, 
the true, and the good, they will severally, accord¬ 
ing to their peculiar dispositions, give themselves up 
to vanity and the world. It has been remarked that 
this tendency prevails chiefly among the wealthy and 
the (so-called) refined; but no one much conversant 
with society in our country can be ignorant to what 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


319 


extent male foppery, and female competition in dress, 
prevail among the poorer and less cultivated portion 
of the community. But among the rich there is little 
to check, and everything to foster the evil. The pub¬ 
lic distinctions which children receive among them; 
when, for example, their musical performances are 
admired and applauded; when they are taken at an 
early age to festivities, and even balls; when they are 
permitted to act their own part in company: these ir¬ 
regularities, which obtain in refined or fashionable so¬ 
ciety, can only promote the idolatry of vanity. 

We must not omit to notice that form of selfishness 
which we can only designate as covetousness. This 
is developed among all classes, especially through the 
example of parents, and their practice of everywhere 
making their children observant of their own advan¬ 
tage. At first the children desire to possess what 
they see others have ; then they will deprive the lat¬ 
ter of whatever pleases them; or they are unwilling 
to communicate, especially in respect to eatables; 
but soon this degeneracy gains ground, and, if suita¬ 
ble caution be not used in allowing children the use 
of money, they will, at an early age, become covet¬ 
ous of money; and hence we see so many selfish 
young persons, prodigal on the one hand, but on the 
other so rapacious, that they are not ashamed even 
of mean and dishonourable means of gratifying their 
cupidity. 

The means of counteracting selfishness in all these 
ramifications are inherent in the soundness of the en¬ 
tire course of education. Children must be removed 
from the position in which those faults were seen to 
grow up and flourish, otherwise all counter-efforts 
will be fruitless. They should, at the same time, be 
taught to acquire real, substantial distinctions, and 
thus, through the entire age of youth, to make prog¬ 
ress in genuine culture. Against pride and vanity 
there is no remedy, except in the consciousness of 
being engaged in striving after real excellence; and 
thus, also, in opposition to covetousness, the ideal to 
which the mind is elevating itself must gain the as- 


320 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 


cendency. The more man consecrates himself from 
childhood to an idea, the more will he deny self. But 
this he will not aspire after, except he be brought to 
feel the gentle but powerful influence of love (in all 
its appropriate developments); and hence no effort 
should be spared to develop cordial and ferv’^ent affec¬ 
tion in selfish children. 

That each of these corruptions is adverse to the 
pure and right culture of man, is obvious, and univer¬ 
sally admitted ; and yet education, as now practised, 
takes one or the other of them into its service, and 
effects great things through their instrumentality. 
How much may be accomplished through ambition or 
the love of distinction! how much by fostering vanity 
in the pupil! 

These incitements need only be set in motion and 
encouraged, and you may raise him to a degree of 
culture which will attract universal admiration : but 
it is such a one as the world honours. He that cov¬ 
ets this culture has but to enter the service of 'that 
spirit which rules in and by worldly-mindedness, and 
he will usually attain his purpose ; this spirit rewards 
his servants, even in the business of self-culture; 
but let him, who would be a cultivator of mankind, 
forswear that demon which is hostile to the divine 
image, though he should profess to work miracles. 

A confirmed inclination or propensity, which has 
obtained the predominance over the divine in man, 
we call a passion; and the ebullition of feeling, which 
interrupts the sobriety of reflection, an excessive 
emotion. The passions are in themselves cold, but 
may produce fervidly ebullient emotions ; for exam¬ 
ple, the love of distinction will thus excite violent an¬ 
ger : moreover, they are generally connected with re¬ 
flection and great penetration, and hence they are 
deeply-seated corruptions. True culture must there¬ 
fore prevent all passions from asserting their power; 
and young persons of both sexes, when rightly edu¬ 
cated, are entirely free from them, though not from 
general depravity. To excessive emotions even the 
best are subject; but when passions invade the soul, 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


321 


an evil spirit enters with them ; and where education 
finds these, she can do little more than mourn, for 
there is, generally, not much to be done against them; 
but against excessive emotions there are remedies. 
We find here two varieties, similar in their nature to 
others which have been considered. 

The first, which may be termed excessive emotions 
of effeminacy, are those of fear, or terror, in its differ¬ 
ent degrees. On this subject the German reader will 
find admirable remarks in .lean Paul Fr. Richter’s 
“ Levana.” Children of a lively imagination are most 
subject to excessive fear; but it is generally awaken¬ 
ed and nourished by tales of terror, by the timidity of 
older persons, and the like. Everything unknown is 
calculated to excite it, as well as darkness, or, per¬ 
haps more frequently, twilight; and children who 
have never heard of ghosts become alarmed, when in 
the dark or in a solitary place, even by the gnawing 
of a mouse. In this we see an arrangement of Divine 
wisdom, that things uncertain or mysterious in their 
nature should excite such feelings in order to awaken 
caution; and this is what ought to be produced, but 
not timidity, or even cowardice. Children should 
therefore never be allowed to hear ghost-stories and 
other tales of terror, except they be accompanied by 
a clear exposition of the illusion experienced by the 
senses ; delusions of the fancy should be made to lead 
to a comprehension of the reality. Children should 
also be made to accustom themselves to be in the 
dark or alone. Let their courage be strengthened by 
the cultivation of general energy of character. 

The emotions of the second class are of a vigorous 
character, and operate more outwardly, being exhib¬ 
ited in different degrees of anger. Persons of ingen¬ 
uous character are precisely those who are most ea¬ 
sily provoked to anger, inasmuch as their indignation 
is strongly excited by the wrong and unjust deeds 
which they witness; but lively dispositions, having 
an admixture of the contemplative or vigorous, and, 
therefore, the ardent, the impetuous, the bold, and da¬ 
ring, are much subject to anger. In general, the fe- 


322 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

male sex is less so than the male. In contemplative 
natures anger rankles more deeply within, and gener¬ 
ally betrays itself by the pallor of the countenance. 

The principal remedy against anger consists in re¬ 
moving, as much as possible, whatever is calculated 
to excite it; so long, at least, as the power of resist¬ 
ance is too w^eak. But it is of the utmost importance 
to make internal provision against it, by eliciting self- 
knowledge, by representing its sad consequences, by 
strengthening the resolution to resist it. While the 
paroxysm lasts, let the child be very calmly and dis¬ 
passionately admonished. The well-known remedy 
of repeating to one’s self a suitable maxim at the mo¬ 
ment when anger is rising, deserves to be recom¬ 
mended. 

Two vices incident to childhood are, lying, and, 
especially in boys, unchastity. They have been call¬ 
ed the besetting sins of childhood. The latter has 
been cursorily considered under physical education 
and elsewhere. On the former we subjoin the fol¬ 
lowing observations, which are taken from Schwarz : 

“ Addictedness to lying, which branches out into de 
ceitfulness, dissimulation, exaggeration, hypocrisy, 
knavery, &c., has already been referred to, in con¬ 
nexion with other depraved manifestations, out of 
which it is apt to grow. There must be a great deal 
of mismanagement before a child will lie : for ‘ God 
hath made man uprightand if a child be guilty of 
this sin, it has certainly been taught to lie; for, at 
the period of life in which it does not yet distinguish 
between truth and fiction, it does not as yet consider 
whether it can accomplish anything by lying; and it 
does not really design to utter a falsehood, even when 
it says what is not true. Now, if anything of this 
kind is magnified into importance: if a purpose is 
imputed to the child which, as yet, it cannot have; 
if the child’s attention is thus directed to the circum¬ 
stance, or, if care be not taken to prevent its accom¬ 
plishing anything by an untrue statement, the child 
is actually taught to do what otherwise it would not 
have learned—nay, what its natural instinct would 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


323 


have led it to abhor, i. e., to speak untruth design¬ 
edly ; it is taught to violate its own self-respect by 
lying. And now, if children do things for which they 
are censured ; if they be subject to several abnormal 
developments of character ; and if the parents do not 
command their entire confidence, or if they be even 
subjected to harsh treatment, they will contract a vi¬ 
cious habit of lying, under the auspices of example 
and of desired success, and stimulated by manifold 
opportunity. 

“ There is here no other remedy than that of closing 
up the sources of the evil in the other corrupt tenden¬ 
cies, and of obtaining the implicit confidence of chil¬ 
dren. Children should, in no instance, be allowed to 
get out of a difficulty by a falsehood; never permit 
yourself to be deceived by them, but give them due 
credit for a frank confession, and never punish them 
for a fault which they spontaneously avow. If they 
have once been brought to repose full confidence in 
their educators, all is gained; and in this course it is 
necessary to persevere. The first real, intentional, 
deliberate lie should, without a moment’s forbearance, 
be punished with sorrowful severity of manner, and 
likewise every subsequent falsehood, according to 
the necessary gradation of punishments. When 
once lying has become a confirmed habit, the young 
person will not be easily reformed, perhaps not till 
after the lapse of years ; nevertheless, the necessary 
course of treatment must be consistently persevered 
in. It will, at the same time, and especially in the case 
of hardened liars, have a good effect if they be made to 
feel, on all suitable occasions, the baseness and odious¬ 
ness of this vice. The least inconvenience to which 
they can be subjected is, that they areneyer believed; 
that they receive no credit, under any circumstances, 
until they give evidence of amendment.” 

We shall take leave of this entire subject by adding 
a few general observations. Throughout this course 
of education for man as an individual, it wall be im¬ 
portant to aim at exciting, from early childhood, a 


324 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

sense of what is honourable, decorous, and beautiful ; 
i. e., by exciting a desire of honourable distinction, but 
not ambition; and, where punishment is necessary, 
by shaming and humbling, but not by disgracing. 
Due praise should be given where it is deserved, yet, 
as we have said, not too frequently : yet we cannot 
but protest against the practice of giving premiums in 
order to excite ambition and competition ; it gives to 
effort a wrong basis and a pernicious motive. In the 
place of it, we would strongly recommend to teachers 
the practice of giving their pupils certificates respect¬ 
ing their progress and conduct, in order to present 
them to their parents. This gives to exertion the 
firm basis of duty, and adds, as a powerful motive, 
the desire of giving pleasure to those whom the child 
ought to love best. 

In proportion as the understanding of the child or 
youth is developed, education should increase its care¬ 
ful efforts in cultivating and respecting the sense of 
honour. The pupil should be treated with respect 
and confidence, and his feelings never be injured by 
undue harshness, or lacerated by the scourge of sar¬ 
casm. In spite of the modern doctrine, so subversive 
of all civil and social order, “ that it is wrong for one 
human being to exercise any physical control over 
another, and that hence even children must be gov¬ 
erned, if at all, by moral suasion,” submission to au¬ 
thority and law, obedience to parents and instructers, 
should be distinctly insisted upon, and, if necessary, 
peremptorily and energetically enforced ; but, though 
all commands should be positive and unalterable, and 
though all reasoning and argumentation with children 
should be utterly eschewed, no slavish obedience 
should be demanded. In order that obedience may 
be a rational and cheerful submission to authority, let 
but the educator have good and maturely weighed 
reasons for his commands, and then the pupil will not 
find occasion to ask what those reasons are, or to call 
them in question. Thus, also, the young ought never 
to be required to practise any obsequious forms of 
politeness. 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


325 


In the management of pride and vanity, and partic¬ 
ularly of that self-conceit for which college students 
are so often distinguished, the educator will be most 
frequently tempted to wield the scourge of satire ; but 
let him forbear, except in rare cases, and rather oper¬ 
ate upon the young % his own noble example. The 
history of ancient and modern times affords the most 
ample materials for holding up to the pupil’s observa¬ 
tion the excellence of a truly honourable character, 
and for enabling him to distinguish it from the false 
glory of a character merely ambitious; and thus ob¬ 
servation and instruction may be beautifully com¬ 
bined. 

The objection so often raised against Christianity, 
that it blunts or destroys the sense of honour, can be 
most effectually refuted by true portraits of the most 
distinguished characters in its history. 

CHAPTER II. 

Moral Education of Man considered as a Member oj 
Society. 

The sense of honour belongs to man as an individ¬ 
ual ; a sense of justice fits him for intercourse with 
others, and adapts his personal virtue to the inter¬ 
course of life. Hence common usage speaks of jus¬ 
tice as virtue par excellence, and of its behests as du¬ 
ties. 

This virtue, then, in its narrowest signification, as 
a sense of justice, is based on the following relations, 
which determine the specific forms in which it is 
manifested. As honour makes it my duty not to 
postpone my own dignity to another, and to regard 
myself as the equal of all others, so justice requires 
of me that I respect the moral dignity of every other 
member of the human family, and treat him as my 
equal. This respect for the dignity of others we des¬ 
ignate, 1 . As justice in its narrowest sense. It em¬ 
braces the virtues of modesty, peaceableness, equity 
in our judgment concerning others, and the republican 
spirit. Opposed to these virtues are the following 


326 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

vices, viz., arrogance, contempt, slander, and deris¬ 
ion. 

In the possession of this sense of justice, man is 
prepared to associate with his fellow-man. The re¬ 
lations of human intercourse then farther enjoin, 2. 
The virtue of veracity, which is violated by every 
species of deception and fraud, and by all injurious 
encroachments on the rights of others. Writers on 
ethics distinguish a variety of falsehoods. We deem 
all specifications superfluous, as every deviation from 
truth is wrong in itself, and violates both the sense of 
personal honour and of justice towards others. 3. The 
virtue of good faith, i. e.,my obligation, on the one hand, 
to be true to my given word or promise, and on the 
other, to submit to the laws under which I live. This 
obligation embraces all the requirements of justice. 

4. As regards the merely external dealings of men 
with each other, irrespective of their inward disposi¬ 
tion and intentions, justice requires, both in public 
and in private life, an adequate compensation for ser¬ 
vices or value received, and reparation for injuries in¬ 
flicted. It is veiy common to make this merely ex¬ 
ternal consideration a test of inward character; and 
persons are often heard to claim credit for virtue, be¬ 
cause they render to every man his due, and do their 
neighbour no wrong, while, in fact, their conduct has 
no other basis than their love of ease, no other prin¬ 
ciple than self-interest. But here we must insist 
upon the truth that virtue is estimable for its intrinsic 
beauty alone, and asks no reward; vice bears its owui 
condemnation within itself, without being punished. 

Justice, then, in its essential character, is based on 
that consciousness of inward dignity which I respect 
in others, in the same manner in which I desire that 
my honour should be respected by them. To this en¬ 
nobling consciousness, which gives me that degree of 
self-confidence that renders the practice of virtue 
possible for me, is opposed that consciousness of per¬ 
sonal unworthiness, that proclivity to evil, which hum¬ 
bles me in my own eyes and in the sight of God, but 
not in view of other men, respecting whom I know 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


327 


that the same is true. Hence this humiliation is pure¬ 
ly religious, and not ethical, in its character. From 
the preceding considerations we derive the following 
elements of the moral education of social man : the 
first is negative, and consists in counteracting the 
propensity to evil; the second is the positive pro¬ 
motion of virtue; and the third consists in the estab¬ 
lishment and maintenance of moral discipline, and in 
securing the predominance to good habits. 

A. 

Negative or preventive education must, first, pro¬ 
tect the young against evil examples, both in real life 
and in books. As regards the influence of living ex¬ 
ample, the necessity of this caution is universally ad¬ 
mitted. But in view of the popular and light litera¬ 
ture of the present day, which contains so much that 
is frivolous and corrupt, we cannot too earnestly urge 
upon parents and educators the duty of exercising a 
constant and wise supervision over those whom Prov¬ 
idence has committed to their care. This supervision 
should be rigid in its scrutiny, but not oppressive in 
its manner, and ought to adapt itself to the progress¬ 
ive development of the pupil’s understanding. The 
laxity of man)'' parents and educators as regards this 
necessary supervision, and the indifference of others 
as respects their own example, deserve to be severe¬ 
ly censured and rebuked. They are unfit for the 
trust committed to them. 

But, secondly, this preventive education must be 
vigilant in its care to preserve the yet uncorrupted 
child from falling into corruption. It should be the 
earnest purpose of its educators, as long as practica¬ 
ble, to keep its heart from pollution, to preserve its in¬ 
nocence, and that not merely in respect of certain pe¬ 
culiar impurities. This object may be attained by 
promoting cheerfulness in children; by constantly en¬ 
gaging them either in useful employments or play, 
for idleness is the beginning of all vices ; and by ex¬ 
ercising constant supervision over them. We need 
but point to the boys who are suffered to run at large 


328 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

in the streets of our cities and elsewhere, and the ne¬ 
cessity of the treatment here contended for is abun¬ 
dantly illustrated. 

B. 

Positive education must aim at training the young 
to good habits in all respects, and therefore by re¬ 
quiring obedience, the true principle of which is foith, 
i. e., affectionate confidence in parents and educators. 
Everything will here depend upon the educator’s ob¬ 
taining due authority, and possessing a good tact for 
government. Rules are easily given, but a certain 
degree of native talent is requisite for their successful 
application. 

Above all things, the educator must possess, in the 
highest possible degree, the respect of his pupils, in 
contradistinction from their affectionate regard, which 
is only the second element; for without the former 
the latter cannot really exist. This respect he will 
directly obtain if he manifests the most conscientious 
faithfulness in discharging the duties of his office ; if 
he possesses the requisite talents and information ; if 
he practises the strictest impartiality towards all his 
pupils; and if his entire conduct gives evidence of ex¬ 
cellence of character. Those who are deficient in 
any one of these points, or in all, and seek to make up 
for the deficiency by treating their pupils with great 
kindness and affection, will, of necessity, utterly fail. 
Nor will those succeed better who assume the ap¬ 
pearance of authority, when the respect on which the 
reality is based is wanting ; and least of all can such 
respect be extorted by excessive severity or tyranny. 
A reign of terror is the worst of all in education. 

The manner in which commands and prohibitions 
are given is of the utmost importance. The follow¬ 
ing principles should be carefully observed : Let there 
be as few commands or laws as possible; but what 
has once been prescribed ought to be irrevocable. If 
altered circumstances should require the abrogation 
of any rule that has been given, it should be as for¬ 
mally abrogated as it was enjoined. No rule should 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


329 


be permitted to become an obsolete statute, for which 
nobody has any farther respect. Hence it will be 
necessary to reflect maturely before any rule of con¬ 
duct is prescribed; and no order should be given, to 
enforce which the will or the ability is wanting. By 
neglecting these several principles, great and exten¬ 
sive mischief is done by many who undertake the bu¬ 
siness of education. 

Rules for the conduct of children should be given in 
as few words and with as much distinctness as possi¬ 
ble ; and no flattery, or any other mixed motives 
which would derogate from the authority of the rules, 
should be employed. 

No commands should be given in the excitement 
of passion. Hence irritable persons, who are easily 
provoked to anger, should be careful not to betray 
their foible to their pupils, and in all cases refrain 
from speaking until they have recovered their com¬ 
mand of themselves. 

After punishment has been administered, all re¬ 
serve and austerity should disappear, and kindness 
and love towards the pupil be exhibited as before. 
The educator should much less indulge himself in 
pouting than even his pupils. A heart softened by 
punishment is often the more easily and directly in¬ 
fluenced for good. Disobedience need not, in all cases, 
be punished; nor should obedience be always reward¬ 
ed. If the latter were done, there avouM be danger 
of converting ail morality into mere legal obsequious¬ 
ness. 

As respects the former, that is, the omission of the 
punishment of disobedience, this may be admissible 
when, in order to avoid excessive rigour, a minor mis¬ 
demeanour can be connived at; but without, by any 
means, permitting the child or youth to be aware of 
your connivance. 

And again, this omission of punishment may take 
place when there is reason to believe, that the re¬ 
proaches of conscience inflict a severer punishment 
than could be otherwise administered. External pun¬ 
ishment often weakens the punitive inflictions of 
E E 2 


330 A PLAN OP YOUTHFUL CULTURE. 

conscience. A wise plan of education, consistently 
pursued, will greatly diminish the necessity of pun¬ 
ishment. It is notorious that those who have no plan 
or judgment are perpetually inflicting chastisement on 
their children, if they do not spoil them by indulgence. 
Sometimes we find both extremes strangely com¬ 
bined ; and such a course of education usually produ¬ 
ces monsters of wickedness. The golden mean is 
found only by the reflecting and wise. 

C. 

It should be the aim of the higher moral education 
gradually to lead the young to desire and to will the 
good solely for its own sake, and thus to acquire a 
truly virtuous character of their own. 

Unconditional obedience should gradually cease, and 
the obedience of conviction take its place. Yet we 
must here repeat our protest against all premature 
reasoning and argumentation with the young on the 
subject of duties. 

As soon as the child’s understanding has attained a 
sufficient degree of maturity, sound moral instruction 
should be given, which should be directed against 
prevalent prejudices, and against any evil habits which^ 
the child may be forming: nothing but simple max¬ 
ims, couched in concise and impressive language, 
should be given. 

This instruction ought never to slide into a moral¬ 
izing tone, but lay hold especially of living and his¬ 
torical examples. Direct discourses to the young, 
breathing a spirit of sound and exalted morality, can 
scarcely fail of accomplishing good; but, in order to 
this, the educator must possess a moral sense no less 
enlightened than quick. An instructer possessing 
these necessary qualifications will, of course, be ex¬ 
ceedingly careful not to foist in wrong motives to vir¬ 
tue, be they ever so plausible and flattering, but to 
present it to the eyes of his pupil in all its exalted 
dignity, without seeking to invest it with any extra¬ 
neous charms or artificial incitements to emotion. 

In the more advanced years of youth, the example 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


331 


of strict and exalted morality will exert an influence 
the more powerful, the more beautifully it illustrates 
all the instructions that have been previously given. 
The more mature, therefore, his pupils are, the more 
severe should be the educator’s demands upon him¬ 
self, the more rigid his examination and judgment of 
himself. 

The reading of good treatises on morals, either of 
an argumentative or illustrative character, is much to 
be recommended ; but the capacity of the reader, and 
the contents of the book to be read, should be careful¬ 
ly considered. Many books that profess to have a 
moral tendency are worse than worthless. 

To this higher moral education belongs the direct 
culture of all those distinct virtues which combine in 
forming a just, in a word, a virtuous member of soci¬ 
ety, and for which the early preventive and habitua¬ 
ting education must have laid the foundation. In 
stating the following points to be observed in this 
connexion, we are aware that we repeat what has al¬ 
ready been said elsewhere ; yet this brief recapitula¬ 
tion is necessary to complete the plan which it is here 
proposed to give. We remark, then, first, that, in or¬ 
der to fit man for social intercourse, his selfishness 
must be subdued. This is accomplished by the pro¬ 
cess which is styled the breaking of the temper; by 
abstaining from all flattery in the treatment of chil¬ 
dren ; and by promoting a spirit of self-denial, in con¬ 
tradistinction from that eager egotism, which, even in 
the highest state of refinement, aims only at selfish 
enjoyments. 

Again, on the foundation here supposed to be laid, 
modesty, as contradistinguished from arrogance, will 
spontaneously develop itself; yet it may be positively- 
promoted by judicious instruction respecting its ami¬ 
ableness, especially in the young, and by directly cul¬ 
tivating such tempers as are essential to it. 

Again, cultivate a love of truth in the young, on 
the plan already presented. It is a much to be la¬ 
mented fact, that parents and others frequently dis¬ 
pose of the questions of children, or help themselves 


332 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

out of a difficulty which they may have with them, by 
telling them falsehoods. Words would fail us were 
we to attempt, in adequate language, to reprobate this 
practice, and to express our abhorrence of it. Apart 
from the sin itself, these falsehoods rarely fail of be¬ 
ing eventually detected by the children; and what 
must be the effect of such discovery 1 Oh! that pa¬ 
rents and other educators would, in all respects, walk 
before children as in the presence of the omniscient 
God, and cultivate in them a sense of his omnipres¬ 
ence and omniscience! 

But, farther, in training the young to habits of good 
faith, their educators should themselves regard as in¬ 
violable any promise which they may have given 
their children or pupils, however inconvenient it may 
be to fulfil it; and then the pupil should be as inexo¬ 
rably required to be as good as his word; but no 
promise should be exacted from him which it would 
be difficult for him to fulfil. 

Good faith in submitting to the laws manifests it¬ 
self, in education, as obedience. This, then, the cor¬ 
rupt notions of our day to the contrary notwithstand¬ 
ing, is the child’s, the pupil’s first duty; the stem, as 
it were, out of which all others grow. Here the 
most tender moral sense can, and ought to, manifest 
itself, when the child obeys simply for the sake of 
obedience. But hence arises that most sacred duty 
of the educator, to require nothing that is not suitable 
and wise. 

The young should be accustomed to respect the 
mutual claims which men have on each other, ac¬ 
cording to the principle, “ Whatsoever ye would that 
men should do unto you, that do ye unto them.” 
None are so mean that their kind offices should not 
deserve, at least, a grateful acknowledgment. 

Lastly, the ideal of character, compounded of re¬ 
flection, energy, action, and purity of soul, should be 
constantly kept in view by those intrusted with the 
business of moral education, and brought, more and 
more clearly, before the minds of the young. His¬ 
torical and living examples are best calculated to il- 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


333 


lustrate it; though living examples may often have 
to be taken, in order to place the opposite of this 
ideal into strong relief. The development of this 
ideal in the soul of the pupil is the highest aim of 
moral education. 

In conclusion, we add a few remarks in justifica¬ 
tion of the brevity with which we have treated the 
subject of the present chapter. We have been thus 
brief partly because much of what belongs here had 
already and unavoidably been considered elsewhere, 
in connexion with man’s individual education; so 
that the reader, with the sketch here presented before 
him, need only refer to those pages where the sub¬ 
jects here specified are discussed in detail. But we 
have been thus brief on this head, chiefly because we 
are deeply convinced that moral character, without 
genuine, heartfelt piety, has, at best, only a relative 
value, and no absolute stability. We certainly do 
not mean to say, that the man of good moral princi¬ 
ples and habits is not a better member of society 
than one who has no such pretensions ; but we do in¬ 
tend to assert, and the history of our own time and 
country daily furnishes additional proofs of the fact, 
that moral character, without a real and deep religious 
basis, is not to be depended on in seasons of tempta¬ 
tion, in circumstances which “ try men’s souls,” and 
make it appear what is in man. 

The very idea of pure and genuine cosmopolitism 
belongs to Christianity. It had no existence before 
the religion of Christ regenerated human life. Utter¬ 
ly fruitless must be every attempt to establish and 
carry out this grand idea, which unites all mankind 
in one great brotherhood, without the idea of one 
great destination, to which the human race is devel¬ 
oping itself under the guidance of Providence; in a 
word, without the consciousness that we live and la¬ 
bour in the kingdom of God; without belonging to 
the Church of Christ. Without this, we should see 
nothing in the history of man but the constant repeti¬ 
tion of that vast tragedy which we witnessed in the 


334 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

developments of the ancient world, and which, so far 
as his subjective stand-point is concerned, is still roll¬ 
ing along its dismal scenery before the eye of the un¬ 
believer ; and all the undertakings and doings of men, 
the work of education itself, would be idle and vain. 
Then would man only contrive a multiplicity of arts, 
in order to pass through life as agreeably as possible ; 
then would parents have nothing better to do than to 
teach their children how to calculate accurately, how 
to think profoundly and acutely, and thus to make the 
shrewdest possible egotists; leaving, however, the 
prospect before them, that another, or ten, or a hun¬ 
dred, will outstrip them in the race, and leave them to 
mourn in despondency, or to sink into despair. What 
a miserable atfair would be all human culture, if we 
had not Christianity! Without the belief that our la¬ 
bours will not, on the whole, fail of their high aim, all 
our educational institutions and efforts would be no¬ 
thing but “ vanity of vanities but, under the con¬ 
viction that we are employed in prosecuting, in the 
kingdom of God, a wprk subservient to his purposes 
and praise, the business of education and instruction 
becomes a divine employment, and forms true citi¬ 
zens of the world. 

To the Church of Christ, to its institutions and in¬ 
strumentalities, we therefore leave the moral educa¬ 
tion of man as a member of the great human family. 

The following chapter, which treats of the religious 
instruction of the young, is, in the main, derived from 
the work of Schwarz. 

CHAPTER III. 

RELIGIOUS EDUCATION. 

Tt is the same with religion as with language, which 
is developed at once both from within and from with¬ 
out. As the child, in order to have any language, 
learns the language of its mother, its home, its coun¬ 
try, the religion of man must also be evolved by tra¬ 
dition transmitted from the father to the son : its ori¬ 
gin must always have a positive basis. Doctrines 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


835 


must here always be communicated by the instructor, 
and be announced with a certain divine authority, be¬ 
cause otherwise they would not gain admission into 
the child’s mind, and because they would teach reflec¬ 
tion, and not religion. We would not even arrive at 
any fixed moral precepts if we had not moral maxims 
and morals, and if not a voice of sacred authority 
from without first called forth the divine voice within. 
We would otherwise have to suffer the springtime of 
life to pass away unimproved, and to deny to the soul’s 
most sacred impulse that light, without which it cannot 
burst into life. No: from the lips of their parents 
the language of virtue and religion must penetrate 
into the hearts of children, if all shall be well with 
them; something must in this way be given from 
without. We are therefore indebted to Providence 
for positive religion, as an essential element of edu¬ 
cation ; consequently, there must be an important con¬ 
nexion between right instruction in religion and the 
religion actually possessed by the parents. 

This instruction is, in the first place, domestic. As 
long as the child does not distinguish between things 
as good or evil, it is, as yet, incapable of religious 
thought. The first guides to this are the childlike 
feelings of confidence and gratitude ; for in both the 
child can already perceive the good, and will in both 
affectionately strive upward to that Being from whom 
it derives what is good; in the first instance, there¬ 
fore, to its parents. Thus we see the elements of 
piety unfold themselves with the development of the 
child’s mind, and then, in due time, moral feeling and 
thinking. 

Confidence, obedience, gratitude, and humility are 
the first and abiding religious feelings; these must 
be, first of all, awakened and animated, and through 
them the child must be drawn to the Father in heav¬ 
en, if instruction in religion is to be thorough, truth¬ 
ful, and imperishable. As early as in the fourth year 
of life, the child begins to send its thoughts beyond 
the sensuous world, and to comprehend communi¬ 
cations respecting God; it conceives of him with 


336 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 


reverence as of a spiritual being-, and the farther the 
child advances in intellectual development, the more 
will it worship the infinite Spirit. If now it be suit¬ 
ably instructed, it can, already in its seventh year, 
entertain the idea of an infinitely good, all-wise, and 
almighty Being, with the proper feelings and reasons, 
though the idea may only gradually become clear; 
and as it will now also form notions X)f the supersen- 
suous, the ideas of heaven, and of the destination of 
man will, at this period already, connect themselves 
w'ith that of God and the worship of God, and hence 
instruction must be given on this point also. The 
child of seven years of age must therefore be no 
stranger to the doctrines of God and of immortality. 
If any of Rousseau’s disciples should here interpose 
his impertinent opinion, that, as yet, nothing should 
be said to the child respecting God, because it is not 
yet capable of comprehending him, they may be met 
with the question, “ Do ye comprehend God 1” and 
dismissed with that sacred word, “ Become like unto 
children.” The child that prays in its simplicity has 
more religion than the self-complacent philosopher. 
If, then, parents desire to bring up their children as 
true worshippers of God, they should begin early, on 
the basis of pious feeling, to give them instruction 
respecting God. 

For this reason we have called this early religious 
instruction the domestic, and thus also pointed out 
the course which it should take. In the first instance, 
the child should occasionally hear something respect¬ 
ing the Father in heaven, but particularly on those 
occasions when it seeks aid in any matter, or re¬ 
joices at anything. Then the mother or the father 
may tell the child of God in heaven, as the Father of 
them all; and then their prayers should sometimes be 
offered up in the presence of the child, and the child 
itself be directed to pray ere it retires to rest. They 
need only give the child a few words, expressive of 
deep and lively feeling, to repeat, and give it fre¬ 
quently to understand that it may tell this Father 
whatsoever it pleases; that he hears and loves it, 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


337 


and is able to do whatever seemeth good to him. 
Under the divine blessing, the parents will soon have 
reason to rejoice at the pious prayers of their child, 
and, in general, at the manner in which it will give 
utterance to what is passing within; and as the 
imagination will be ever employed in its plastic oper¬ 
ations, the religious feelings of the child, which will 
frequently exhibit themselves in these productions 
of the imagination, should sometimes be noted, and 
gradually guided by the parents. But on this point 
no particular rules can be given, in addition to those 
given under the head of imagination. 

It is, of course, a paramount requisite that the pa 
rents themselves be religious, and regarded with rev¬ 
erence by their children, otherwise the best instruc¬ 
tion ill religion which the child may receive will not 
be accompanied by the needful blessing. 

When children are about the age of seven years, 
their regular instruction in religion should commence. 
This may be divided into three courses. The first 
should develop those feelings of confidence, obedi¬ 
ence, gratitude, and humility, before spoken of; point 
to God, the Father of all men, and show how all men 
are intended to be the children of God, and to become 
eternally hapjw. This course should also give in¬ 
struction concCTiiing Jesus as the best of men, but as 
one come from heaven, by whom the Father himself 
instructs men. All historical statements in relation 
to religion must be made authoritatively, without su- 
peradded reflections and proofs, because for these the 
child is, as yet, far from being prepared ; and the sup¬ 
posed truth which it might be expected to receive on 
these subjects would not really be truth, but would, 
in the soul of the child, be untruth: it is sufficient if 
its heart receives all this ; for then it will, at this pe¬ 
riod already, hold it as truth, and become more and 
more confirmed in its convictions; and thus it be¬ 
comes truly sanctified in the truth of the divine word. 
It is necessary to take the child aside from other wit¬ 
nesses, and to devote, at most, half an hour at a time 
to this subject, or, rather, no longer time than while 


338 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE 

t 

its religious feelings manifest activity ; for these are 
here principally concerned, because without them 
the ideas presented would become mere empty for¬ 
mulas, and consequently be a desecration of the di¬ 
vine name; but, whenever they are received by the 
heart, let them be expressed in definite terms or prop¬ 
ositions. Occasionally a passage of Scripture, or a 
stanza of a hymn, should be repeated to children, 
which may serve in the place of such a proposition, 
and will now be understood by the young heart. 

The second course, opening with about the ninth 
year, will apparently again commence at the begin¬ 
ning, inasmuch as it will more fully analyze and elu¬ 
cidate all these doctrines, and particularly, also, give 
more distinct instruction respecting the divine Re¬ 
deemer. The morals of Christianity must also be 
more extensively treated; but always, of course, with 
reference to the doctrines of faith, and with special 
reference to the childlike mind, adapting instruction 
to its state of development. At the same time, more 
passages of Scripture and hymns ought to be com¬ 
mitted to memory. 

The third course, which cannot begin before the 
twelfth year, will embrace a review of the preceding, 
and bring everything into due connex^n, while it is, 
as it were, a repetition of the first, completed by the 
second. This course will give unity to the finished 
whole. 

The consideration of the farther prosecution of this 
domestic religious instruction does not belong to our 
present undertaking ; for those who would communi¬ 
cate such instruction according to the plan here pre¬ 
sented, and with a religious spirit, must themselves 
possess that spirit, and will then readily mark out the 
subsequent course for themselves. Every father ought 
to do this. We merely remark, that only one child 
alone, or, at most, a few brothers and sisters, can be 
thus instructed at a time, because there must be no 
restraint; because everything should be directly re¬ 
ceived by the heart, and by the heart also freely ex¬ 
pressed. If this religious instruction is to produce all 


AND INSTRUCTION. 


339 


its intended and happy results, three important influ¬ 
ences (subordinate, of course, to the spirit of grace) 
must combine in one harmonious operation: the fa¬ 
ther’s instruction, the mothers tenderness, and, in 
general, the love of the parents and the pious spirit 
of the family, exhibited in the good deportment of ev¬ 
ery member of the household. Whenever one of 
these influences is absent in any family, religion will 
not flourish as it ought, and what is there that could 
make up for such a deficiency 1 

Domestic religious instruction is followed by that 
of the Church. In a manner corresponding to the for¬ 
mer, there must here also be a union of three sources 
or influences : the instruction of the pastor, the influ¬ 
ence of the Christian spirit in the Church, especially 
through the sacred Scriptures, and the good tone of 
public morals. Important means of religious educa¬ 
tion are devotional exercises in the family, and the 
solemn days of the Church. 

It is not our province to enter farther into this sub¬ 
ject, and to show the happy influence which, in our 
country. Sabbath-schools may and generally do exert, 
or to speak of the necessity of Bible-classes, and other 
important means of religious instruction; but we may 
observe that the teachers of Sabbath-schools ought to 
be selected with more attention to their qualifications 
to instruct in sacred things, than we have reason to 
believe is always the case. They should not only be 
decidedly pious, but capable of speaking to the young, 
wisely and well, of those things that belong unto 
man’s everlasting peace. 

And we would add that we consider the practice of 
our churches, as regards religious instruction, to be 
defective in a considerable degree. There is too lit¬ 
tle done to develop religious character in children, 
and hence arises a necessity for extraordinary efforts 
to bring the youth and adults into the Church; and 
we recommend the above discussion to the attention 
of parents and others, in the hope that they will be 
induced to sow early that divine seed, which, when 


340 A PLAN OF YOUTHFUL CULTURE, ETC. 

early sown, may be expected to bear rich and copious 
harvests ; for such are the promises of Holy Writ. 

We are quite sensible that what we have given 
above is but a brief sketch, unaccompanied by those 
earnest and fervent admonitions which many -will 
probably look for in connexion with the solemn con¬ 
cern under consideration; but the subject is so great in 
itself, and of such vast importance, that it demands a 
literature of its own, and of such a literature our 
country possesses much that is truly valuable and ex¬ 
cellent. Our present purpose could only be to pre¬ 
sent a simple plan of religious education for that pe¬ 
riod of life, in which it is most generally neglected, in 
that very sphere where most can be effected for it: 
we speak of home. And if the brief treatise given 
above should be effectual in enlightening hitherto neg¬ 
lectful parents respecting their duty, and in guiding 
them in its faithful performance, our purpose will be 
attained. 


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